


You are the stars (I am the girl with the bright light)

by phonecallfromgod



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Next to Normal - Kitt/Yorkey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunken Shenanigans, Family Drama, Michael Lee Brown!Evan, Multi, Sad Girls Getting Happy Endings, Weddings, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 09:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12980781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phonecallfromgod/pseuds/phonecallfromgod
Summary: For Zoe Murphy, being a bridesmaid in a big family wedding is stressful enough without having to navigate her groomsman ex-boyfriend and his new boyfriend, her nosy brother, her recently divorced parents, and the very cute cousin of the groom. Throw all that together and what could possibly go wrong?





	You are the stars (I am the girl with the bright light)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place during the second semester of Zoe's freshman year of college in a fairly standard Connor didn't die but the fake friendship and emails still occurred minus the Connor Project AU. Connor's boyfriend Jackson is the collective oc of myself, evol_love and euphrasiefauchelevent, and we ask that he is not used elsewhere without permission. If you like him (and we hope you do!) you should check out evol_love's two most recent fics for some truly excellent Jackson Wayne content. 
> 
> Additionally I did write this with Michael Lee Brown's Evan in mind, but obviously feel free to imagine whomever you like, just a heads up if doesn't sound like I'm describing Ben Platt because I'm not.

Zoe has no problem being in her cousin’s wedding party alongside Evan. It’s been almost two years since everything went south with them, and yeah it was fucked up and awful at the time, but they’ve talked, they’ve sorted it, and they’ve both moved on. They say hi to each other when Evan comes over to hang out with Connor or they bump into each other at the store. They’re Facebook friends. She even fucking liked the relationship status update when he started dating Jared at the beginning of last summer. 

She’s cool. She’s chill. She’s totally not hiding in her hotel room killing time because the thought of being alone with Evan, who is perpetually early to _everything_ , without anyone else as a buffer is terrifying. Absolutely not. 

Zoe sighs and flops down on the hotel bed. It doesn’t help that she herself is also perpetually early for everything, the consequence of years of jazz band, and watching the clock tick to 4:01 pm — officially making her late to meet in the lobby — fills her with nervous energy. She flicks through her notifications, but there’s been nothing since her mom texted her that morning to double check the address of the hotel. She gives a curious glance to the smattering of items her suitemate had left on the bedside table. Glasses case, phone charger, pack of Starbursts, notebook with music notes on the front, and a paperback edition of Anna Karenina. 

It’s not much to paint a picture of a person with, but Zoe’s mostly just thankful she doesn’t have to share with her cousin Becca and the more inner circle of her twin sister and best friends that make up the rest of the bridal party. She loves her cousin and has been happy to play along for the last few months with her various bridesmaid duties, but there’s only so much she can manage to care about floral arrangements or colour schemes. Ironically, it’s Connor who loves all this wedding shit, and she knows for a fact via his boyfriend that he’s already got several wedding pinterest boards on the go, just in case. 

4:06pm. Zoe figures that should be long enough that s _omeone_ besides Evan will have shown up, but somehow it’s still a relief when the elevator dings into the lobby and she catches sight of the groom chatting with a girl she doesn’t recognize. This must be her mysterious roommate, Natalie, the only girl on his side of the wedding party. She’s laughing at something Isaac’s said, a cloud of dark curly hair and dark intense brown eyes, and Zoe’s breath catches in the back of her throat. She’s exactly the kind of quiet and intense pretty that used to drive Zoe into spirals of competitiveness in middle school, completely missing that what she’d been feeling was maybe a lot closer to love than hate. 

“Hey Zoe,” someone says just over her shoulder, and Zoe whirls around, practically slamming into Evan who has to grab her by the arm to stop her from completely smacking him. 

“Hey,” she says, taking a large step backwards and pulling her arm free. 

“Hi,” Evan says again, putting his arm behind his back, a silent apology for touching her, even though she’s the one who very nearly beaned him. 

“Hi,” Zoe says again, drily, very aware that this game could continue all afternoon if she lets it. “How’s your semester going?”

“Good! Yeah, yeah, yeah, really good. I mean it’s not- It’s good it’s not like, _amazing_ it’s just school but we’ve- I’ve been really good so that’s….good.” 

“Cool,” Zoe says, sitting down on— well, she’s not really sure if it’s an under padded bench, or maybe an over padded coffee table. “Where is everyone else?” 

Evan shrugs, his foot curling inward on itself and Zoe flutters a wave at Isaac to get his attention. “Where’s Becca?” 

Isaac shrugs, and he looks so much like Evan in that split second. They don’t look much alike at all, at least not physically, but Evan’s childhood hero worship of his older cousin — the big brother he never had, Zoe’s mind reminds her traitorously — has clearly worked its way into his mannerisms. 

She doesn’t have to press farther though because her cousin Maddie, Becca’s twin sister and maid of honour, suddenly materializes and ushers them over to the ballroom. Becca and Isaac are talking to the Rabbi and everyone else scatters around the edges of the room. Zoe leans against a wall, trying and failing not to feel horribly out of place, her foot tapping loudly on the hard stone floor. 

“Hey, Zoe!” One of Isaac’s brothers calls to her from the huddle of groomsmen, though she’s not sure which one. “You’re a girl, help us settle something.” 

Zoe peels herself off the wall, thankful to be included even if this isn’t likely to go well in the slightest. 

“You’d respond to this text, right?” Matthew — she’s _pretty_ sure it’s Matthew — holds out his phone for her, with Tinder pulled up and the message _I lost my library card but I’d love to check you you out_ typed but not sent. 

“She works at a library,” Matthew adds. “So it’s, like, extra cute right?” 

Zoe scrunches her nose. “If she works in a library and put it on her bio she’s gonna be getting, like, half a dozen of these kinds of lines a day.” 

“I told you,” Natalie says, and Zoe hadn’t even noticed her, sitting backwards in a chair, her forearm draped across the front. 

Matthew scoffs. “I think it’s cute.” 

“Hey, send it and never hear from her again, be my guest,” Natalie says, pulling her hair over her shoulder. 

“Aren’t you, like, a lesbian now?” One of the other groomsmen says. “Isn’t it different for girls and shit?” 

“Yeah, my bar for a good text from a girl is way lower,” Zoe says, and her stomach swoops with the way Natalie looks up at her, that excited flicker of recognition, like bumping into someone you grew up with in a city you’ve never visited before. 

Matthew snorts. “You dated Evan. Your bar for guys can’t be _that_ high.” 

The other groomsmen laugh and Zoe’s hands ball into fists of their own accord, but the moment is short lived. 

“Alright, alright!” Becca’s mom, her Aunt Janice, is suddenly flapping her arms at them like a barnyard hen gathering chicks. “We need to pair you off, so girls to one side, boys to another.” 

Zoe shrinks in behind Maddie, crossing her fingers behind her back that she’s not going to get paired with Evan. Maybe she’s being melodramatic, but something about the cosmic irony of walking down the aisle with her ex-boyfriend makes Zoe wanna hurl herself in front of a bus. 

“Wait a minute, Becca,” Aunt Janice says, frowning at them. “Are we missing a groomsman?” 

Becca squints at them, coming over. “No, we’re not, but Natalie needs to switch sides. She’s with Isaac.” 

“ _Rebecca_ ,” Aunt Janice says, sounding scandalized, “Are you telling me we have an odd number of men to women? What were you going to do with them coming down the aisle!?” 

“I’ll go with Natalie!” Zoe volunteers, because Natalie’s cute, sure, but more importantly because she is not Evan Hansen. 

Her Aunt Janice gives her a long look, like she just offered to chop off her own hand. “No, no, no, let’s not jump to anything drastic. I’m sure we can make this work a better way.” 

Natalie catches her glance and raises her eyebrows, a silent s _traight people, am I right_?

It takes a stupidly long time for Becca and her mom to puzzle out how to pair them off without having, horror of horrors, two girls coming down the aisle together. They finally settle on having Maddie as the maid of honour entering alone, followed by four wholesome All-American pairs of makeshift heterosexuals, then Natalie coming in last by herself. 

Zoe thinks the whole thing is ridiculous beyond words. She’s been paired up with Isaac’s younger brother Eric, who is seventeen, but looks like a high school freshman and reeks of Axe body spray. It’s not Evan, though, so who is she to look a gift horse in the mouth? 

The rehearsal itself goes fine after that little heteronormative breakdown and Natalie catches her eye and gives her a private little exasperated look as she comes down the aisle alone, and suddenly it’s a lot easier for Zoe to hold her fake smile. 

After the rehearsal finally, _finally_ ends Zoe ducks out as quickly as she can, which means pretending she doesn’t see Evan waiting to talk to her. But she’d rather feel guilty than deal with that right now, so she throws her gaze and power walks to the elevator, knowing well enough Evan probably won’t follow her. 

“Zo!” Maddie calls, making the elevator just before the doors ding closed. “We’re gonna do manicures in my room, wanna come?” 

She considers making an excuse for about half a second, but she’s been stubbornly antisocial all day and feels bad about it. So she lets Maddie drag her off to get her nails painted by Evan’s extremely sweet cousin Norah, while the other two bridesmaids, Becca’s besties Caitlin and Amanda, split the world’s most overpriced bottle of wine from the minibar. 

They’re not doing a rehearsal dinner with the full wedding party, just immediate family, so Zoe sets off to find something to eat, careful not to bang anything with her newly polished fingers. Connor will probably kick up a fit for the principal of the thing since they always do their nails together, but since black doesn’t exactly match the navy, sage, and gold colour palette, he’ll just have to suck it up. 

She’s in the elevator, gently tapping her nails on the top of her lip to see if they’re dry, when the doors ding open and Natalie walks on. Zoe hastily pulls her hands away from her face and fights the urge to push her hair behind her ears, a little nervous tick she’s never been 100% able to break. 

“Hey,” Natalie says, beaming at her like they’re long-lost friends. “What’s up?” 

“I’m just, uh, gonna grab some food downstairs.” Zoe crosses her arms over her chest and feels her nail catch on her sweater. She knows without looking that she’s just smeared nail polish on her cardigan. 

“Me too, you cool if I tag along?” Natalie says, and then frowns slightly. “Oh shit, you got-” She gestures at her cardigan, and like she’s Mary Poppins, reaches into her purse and pulls out a Tide To Go pen. “Ta da!” Natalie says, victorious, as the elevator dings and they step out into the lobby. “Uh? Help?” Zoe says, holding up her still drying nails, and Natalie laughs, steers her over to a couch, and sits them down. Zoe doesn’t even realize how close together they are until she looks up and Natalie is _right there,_ biting her lower lip in concentration as she rubs the pen over the stain. 

Natalie looks up, and god she’s seen her looking at her. Zoe darts her eyes away but it’s too late, Natalie’s blushing and pulling back. “Uh, I think you’re good.” 

“You still want to, um, food?” Zoe says, truly a verbal triumph. 

They end up grabbing a table at the generic mid range hotel bar and grill, and the weird nervous energy lingers well into them getting their drinks. Natalie orders a ginger ale which Zoe finds oddly endearing, like a kid at a fancy restaurant trying to be grown up. 

“So, uh,” Zoe says, “You’re Isaac’s cousin?” 

Natalie nods, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Yeah, our moms are sisters. Not that...not that it matters just, uh.” 

“Mhmmm,” Zoe says, and takes a sip of her iced tea. “That’s nice that you’re so close that he’d have you in his, uh, groom’s party? What’s the term for that?” 

“Oh god, I have no idea. Yeah, like it s _hould_ be groom’s party, but that sounds wrong somehow.” Natalie ponders this for a long moment. “Anyways, yeah Isaac’s pretty great. My housing stuff last year completely fell apart and he let me move in with him. We actually weren’t that close before, but I guess that’s what a year of living in a tiny apartment does.” 

“Well I’m glad he’s ready to embrace, you know, like positive female relationships in his life, even if Becca’s mom wasn’t happy about it.” 

“Oh my god!” Natalie says, throwing her hands up. “Was that not the craziest shit you’ve ever experienced? Like I promise, no one at this wedding will die if you have two girls walk down the aisle together.” 

“Exactly!” Zoe says. “God, straight people are wild. Especially since she paired up Evan and Norah, who are literally cousins. So, like, fake incest is okay, but not two girls?” 

“Jesus,” Natalie says. “I swear I will never understand straight people.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” Zoe says, and clinks their glasses together. 

Natalie disappears to the bathroom after the waiter takes their orders and Zoe idly watches an Instagram video Connor’s boyfriend just posted of Connor attempting to pack light for their one night trip for the wedding. She’s in the middle of commenting something fluffy and emoji-filled when she catches sight of Evan in her peripheral vision. And oh fuck. He’s very, very not sober. 

“Hi Zoe,” Evan says, and Zoe has to reach out to stop him from listing too far to the side in a bizarre role reversal of earlier that day. 

“Hey, Evan, I think you should sit down,” she says, trying to guide him onto one of the empty chair/bar stool hybrids at their table. 

“’m good,” he slurs, and Zoe is suddenly thrust back to the one and only high school party she and Evan ever attended together, which mostly consisted of her holding him up while he managed to fall asleep on her at more and more improbable angles. 

She manages to get him into the chair, and starts pouring him a glass of water. “Here, drink this.” 

He takes it without protestation and drinks all of it in one long impressive go. “We did shots. Isaac and me and Matthew and Eric and...the other one? Him. It was great, it was really fun.” He pillows his head in his arms and gazes up at her. 

“Mhmmm,” Zoe says, opening Snapchat and sending off a quick snap to Connor. “Evan, maybe you should go back to your room and have a lie down. I can help you get back if you want.” 

“No. I have to stay downstairs. Cause he’s coming, he’ll be mad if I’m not here,” Evan says, eyes already starting to fall shut. Zoe casts her eyes toward heaven, imploring the wedding weekend gods to throw her a bone — a sleepy drunk Evan Hansen is _really_ the last thing she needs right now and Natalie’s going to reemerge from the bathroom literally any second now. 

“Who’s coming?” Zoe asks, and pokes Evan in the shoulder until he opens his eyes. “Isaac?” 

“ _Babe_! There you are! What the crap, I’ve been looking for you _eve-ry-where_ ,” Jared Kleinman booms behind her, and jesus christ this really is junior year all over again, like she’s fallen into some horrible time loop where she’s doomed to be awkward in front of cute girls and her ex ad infinitum. 

Evan manages to stand even though he’s about as steady-looking as a newborn giraffe, and Jared literally has his hands on Evan’s face going in to kiss him before he notices Zoe is sitting right there. 

He sees her. She sees him see her. He sees her see him with his hands on Evan’s face and with no other option that isn’t horrifically awkward he settles for a bizarre kiss on his forehead. Evan makes a grumpy little noise and flops back into his seat. 

“Hey Zoe,” Jared says, pitching his voice up in that way he does when he wants to seem like he’s being ultra casual. “You’ve, uh….cut your hair,” he settles on finally and it’s so charmingly uncomfortable that Zoe can’t even begrudge him. 

“Yeah, I figured it was time I got the bisexual bob.” 

“Who’s bisexual Bob?” Evan says, head back in his arms. 

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to be cute or you’re just dumb,” Jared says. 

“A person can be two things,” Evan pouts. 

“Oh, hello,” Natalie says, picking this opportune moment to reappear, wiping her hands conspicuously on her jeans. 

“Hi Natalie,” Evan says. “This is my- well he’s my, my, uh, my Jared.” 

“He’s Evan’s boyfriend,” Zoe clarifies, because seriously what the fuck Evan, and Natalie nods, sitting back down. 

“Heya,” Jared says, giving a little wave. “Please excuse my lightweight boyfriend, we’ll get out of your hair and let you guys get back to it.”

Zoe’s not exactly sure why — blame her good Midwestern upbringing or maybe her own terror at the secondhand implication that this is some kind of date — but the words, “You guys should eat with us,” are out of her mouth before she can even think it through. 

She’s not sure who is more surprised, her or Evan, but at least she’s sober enough to be able to hide it. 

“Uh, you sure?” Jared asks. He’s giving her an out, but she just keeps nodding. 

“Yeah, here, let’s get another chair.” She looks over at Natalie, who’s watching the whole pantomime in bemused silence. “Um, unless, if that bothers you, Natalie?” 

“Nope, I’m good,” she says, and that settles that. They all attempt to readjust but the table’s really only meant for three and Jared’s knee keeps bumping against hers under the table. 

“I’m Natalie, by the way,” Natalie says abruptly, reaching across the table to shake hands with Jared, and Zoe feels a pang of guilt for not including her sooner. 

“You’re in the wedding party, right?” Jared says. “You’re, what’s the term, like a grooms...maid?” 

“Groomswoman,” Natalie says. “Yeah, Isaac and I are cousins. Not on the same side as Evan though.” 

Evan hums in agreement, his head lolling onto Jared’s shoulder, though he seems a little less out of it. “Natalie goes to UChicago,” Evan says mostly into the sleeve of Jared’s shirt. 

“Me too!” Zoe says, not quite quick enough to hide the excitement in her voice. “What program?” 

“Music, I play the piano,” Natalie says, taking another sip of her drink, and Zoe tries very hard to keep the seed of a crush from completely blossoming in her chest. 

“I play guitar in Jazz Combo,” Zoe says. “I’m not in the music department, though, I’m in anthro.”

“You’re just that good I guess,” Natalie says around the rim of her glass and Zoe would give anything to not be hearing that in front of her ex and his boyfriend. 

“I’m glad you still play guitar,” Evan says, and he’s grinning at her in a way that she knows he never would be if he was sober right now, and it sort of makes her want to cry. 

She tries not to spend too much time focused on where she and Evan went right, because where it went wrong tends to eclipse everything else, but she’d be lying if she said she’d hated that way he’d look at her sometimes. Like she was capable of things brilliant and beautiful, things only she could accomplish. And she doesn’t even want it from Evan, not really, but is it so wrong to wish that someone, _anyone_ , would look at her like she had placed the stars in the sky again? 

By the time the server comes by to take Evan and Jared’s orders the conversation has moved on past schools and majors, and Natalie’s catching Jared up on the nonsense that happened at the rehearsal with their lopsided numbers of men to women. 

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Jared says. “Well thank god we all managed to avoid the crisis of two women walking down an aisle with their arms linked at this completely non-traditional interfaith wedding. We just gotta, like, make up for it by really gay-ing up the reception.” 

The server returns with their food, and Zoe really wasn’t paying attention when Evan ordered because he seems to have just gotten an entire loaf of garlic bread with cheese for himself. 

Zoe picks at her pasta and just listens as Jared tells some long-winded story about his last big family wedding, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down Evan’s back the whole time. She doesn’t even realize she’s been completely silent until Natalie taps at her foot with her own. “You okay there?” 

Zoe blinks. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry I was just thinking about uh, my parents. They got divorced, like, a year and a half ago? And this is the first family thing they’re both going to be at so that’s going to be, you know—” 

“Stressful?” Natalie supplies. 

“I was going to say ‘interesting,’ but yeah, stressful is probably a bit more accurate. My mom wasn’t going to come, but like, she’s literally Becca’s godmother and she was feeling really guilty about the idea of not coming.” 

Evan squints at her. “Isn’t your mom Jewish?” The surprise must be too clear on her face because he starts to backtrack. “I don’t have, like, _tabs_ on you or anything, I just remembered because, like, I’m also Jewish on my mom’s side so it was, like, easy to remember? For me? Cause we matched?” 

“Okay,” Zoe says and there’s an awkward lingering silence broken by Natalie raising her glass. 

“Hey, to being Jewish on your mom’s side.” She holds up her own glass until Zoe and Evan join in for her impromptu toast. 

“Wow, I see how it is,” Jared says with mock annoyance and Evan coos and kisses his hand. 

There’s a delightful pause as Evan’s eyes get wide. “Why is your hand spicy!?” 

“Babe, I’m eating hot wings. What the hell did you expect?” Jared says as Evan pulls a face and takes a long drink from his Coke. 

“Eat some bread,” Natalie suggests helpfully, clearly barely holding back a laugh. 

“Now did the groom not make you take a bunch of shots or are you just, like, a champ at holding your liquor, Natalie?” Jared asks. 

“Oh, I wasn’t actually there for the shots,” Natalie says lightly. 

Jared scoffs. “Wow, sexists bastards, let a girl be a groomsmaid but won’t let her do shots with you?”

“I, um, don’t actually drink,” Natalie says, and waves a hand dismissively. 

“So what? Are you like, straight edge?” Jared presses. 

“No,” Natalie says, “I don’t have an _agenda_. I just, uh, I don’t do that shit anymore.” 

She says it with a good dose of nonchalance, but Zoe can hear the defensiveness underneath and she wants to reach across the table and smack Jared. 

“Why do you even _care_?” Zoe snaps. “Jesus, Jared, she doesn’t need your stamp of approval to _not_ drink.” 

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” Jared says, holding his hands up in mock surrender, but his tone is tense and annoyed. 

That seems to be the final straw in tipping the dinner into hellishly awkward territory, despite Evan and Natalie’s best efforts to save the conversation, and it’s its own miracle when the server arrives with the cheque. 

She rides the elevator back up to her room with Natalie, and she’s barely through the door before she’s throwing herself face down onto the duvet. 

Natalie pats her calf sympathetically. “There, there. As far as dinners with your ex and his boyfriend went, I’d say that was like, 7/10.” 

Zoe flips over and starfishes over the mattress. “I don’t even know why I invited them to eat with us.”

“Because you’re a nice person,” Natalie says. “And because it honestly probably would have been weirder if you’d, like, made them move to a different corner of the restaurant.” 

“Fair,” Zoe says, blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes. “I am sorry though, for making everything awkward and weird.” 

Natalie has her back to Zoe, gathering her hair between her hands to twist up into a bun. The glimpse of a gold chain against the back of her neck makes Zoe’s stomach swoop and she has to look away like some sort of fainting heroine in an Austen novel. 

“It really wasn’t that weird,” Natalie says. “Like, I would not even put that in my top ten weirdest dinners ever. Though, my number one is admittedly _a lot_ to compete with.”

She says it with some hidden gravity, but Zoe’s not going to pry. 

“I’m gonna shower,” Natalie says suddenly, pulling her cardigan over her head and throwing it on the bed. She’s still wearing a camisole underneath, but Zoe throws her gaze to the ceiling and doesn’t look back until the door closes with a thud and she hears the water start running. 

Zoe rolls over onto her side and considers the bland hotel striped wallpaper, trying not to think about dinner anymore. When that fails, she changes into yoga pants and her old high school jazz band sweater and puts some game show on in the background while she flips through her notifications.

She practically chokes and has to sit up to stop herself from a cough fit when she sees Natalie has friend requested her on facebook. Alright, okay, she needs to get this under control. So yes, Natalie is very cute and charming and her smile makes Zoe feel things she was worried she wouldn’t feel ever again, and she goes to UChicago which is amazingly convenient and they both are into music and she’s not straight — which in itself is practically a miracle. But, they only met a few hours ago and this level of heart swooshing over anyone in such a short amount of time is out of character enough for her to be a little bit worried. 

Though she does allow herself one last self indulgent gay panic when Natalie re-emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wearing a pair of pajamas with music notes all over the pants. 

“I really should have put together that you were a music major earlier,” Zoe says. “What with the notebook and everything.” 

Natalie laughs. “All my relatives always buy me generic music stuff for the holidays, it’s like when you have one animal people associate you with, only instead of, like, a cat or a dolphin, it’s a treble clef.” 

Zoe nods sympathetically. When they’d been dating, Evan had gone through a weird phase where he really seemed to think she was much more into space stuff than she was. Not to mention her own horde of music and guitar related gifts from secret santa gift exchanges and distant relatives. 

Natalie flicks through the channels, finally settling on some wedding reality show. “Why is this stuff so awful to live through, but so freaking fun to watch?” 

“It’s getting to be judgey, I think,” Zoe says, trying not to fixate on the ruined nail she’d smeared the polish on earlier. 

Natalie hums, pressing her wet hair between a towel. “My friend Henry and I always like to speculate on who’s gonna get divorced. Like if she says ‘he’d do anything to make me happy,’ they’re not gonna last.” 

“That’s horrible!” Zoe laughs. 

“It’s not wrong, though,” Natalie says with a shrug and lets out a delighted high pitched noise of vindication a few minutes later when a bride describes her fiance thusly with an especially heinous level of lacklustre. 

Despite her best efforts to pretend otherwise, her ruined nail is driving her crazy and she’s already started to pick at the polish. She can practically hear Connor chastising her, but it’s _annoying_ and she’s picked off about half of it by the time the show’s over and it’s noticeable enough she’ll have to fix it before tomorrow morning. 

“You don’t happen to have navy blue nail polish?” Zoe asks. 

Natalie shakes her head and Zoe sighs, pulling up Evan on Facebook with a certain level of uneasy reluctance. 

_Zoe Murphy: Hey do you know what room norah’s in?_

_Evan Hansen: Yeah she’s right beside us in 406_

_Evan Hansen: Or maybe 410???_

_Evan Hansen: I just checked it’s 406!!_

_Zoe Murphy: okay thx_

Zoe searches around for where her shoes ended up, and she’s more disappointed than surprised when she turns back to see her phone screen lit up by a whole series of incoming messages from Evan. 

“Evan, for fuck’s sake,” she mutters to herself, throwing her phone away on the bed and flopping back down. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Natalie says very sweetly and Zoe just wishes she could stop worrying and thinking and talking about Evan for five seconds because it's absolutely ruining her ability to look like a functional, dateable person. 

“It’s just,” Zoe says, “Okay, like, without getting into it, the whole reason we even broke up in the first place was because I found out he’d been lying to me about, like, basically everything that our relationship was built on. Which was absolutely horrible and, like, was not fun to work through at all.” 

She sits up again and isn’t quite prepared for the soft understanding way Natalie is looking at her. “Um, anyways,” she shakes her head, “Like, it really sucked but I moved on, I worked through it and we had this, you know, big moment of like healing and closure. Which was nice, but now I keep having to see him and every time I do he just, like, oozes guilt and shame at me. And I’m just put this in this weird place where _I_ have to make sure _he’s_ not feeling bad even though he’s the one who hurt me and I just hate it.” 

Natalie hums sympathetically. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault. I just feel like I’m never allowed to talk about it because we did the whole closure song and dance and, like, Connor’s drama and my parents getting divorced and-” Zoe says, and fuck, fuck, her throat is tightening up and she is _not_ going to cry about this. “You know what the worst part is? I actually _really_ like Evan. I would love if we could just be, you know, actual friends.” 

Natalie nods again and Zoe feels like she’s bursting at the seams, practically launching herself to her feet. “Anyways, sorry I shouldn’t be dumping my drama all over you, we literally just met—” 

“Hey, what are the cousins of your cousin’s fiance for?” Natalie says. “Look, I get feeling like, everyone else’s crazy is so big and loud that there’s never any space for you to have your own crazy.” 

God, she’s fucking crying now and she wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands as discretely as possible. “I’m gonna, uh, go get nail polish from Norah. I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay,” Natalie says, blessedly casual, because Zoe’s pretty sure the last of her composure will crumble the second anyone is nice to her again. “I’ll keep tabs on who I think is going to get divorced in your absence.” 

She leaves her phone but takes her room key and spends the short elevator ride down to the fourth floor making sure she’s not looking like she just had a cry. She taps on Norah’s room door, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet while she waits for her. 

“Hey,” Norah says, appearing at the door in a cute little polka dot swimsuit and a bathrobe. “What’s up? Evan said you needed something?” 

Zoe holds up her bad nail and Norah gasps in fake horror. “It’s only been like three hours!” 

“She was sacrificed to my cardigan,” Zoe says, holding the door open with her foot while Norah rummages around in her bag for a second, pulling out a makeup bag. 

“Ta-da! Just bring it back to me tomorrow,” She says, chucking the whole thing at Zoe, who manages to catch it without fumbling too badly. 

“You’re a lifesaver.” 

“I know!” Norah says, wrinkling her nose adorably and grabbing a towel. Zoe had been sort of surprised when Becca had chosen Norah as one of her bridesmaids, but she has the kind of easygoing charm that Zoe’s always wished she did, and it’s not surprising Becca adores her as much as everyone else. 

Zoe’s not surprised when she hears the door to Evan’s room click open behind her, but she’s not expecting to turn around to see not Evan, not Jared, but Connor standing in the doorway. 

“I thought I heard your dulcet tones,” Connor says and reaches out to tug on a piece of her hair affectionately. It’s not wholly unsurprising that he’d come to hang out with Evan, they are sort of bizarre friends now, but she’s a little miffed he came to see Evan before her. 

Zoe bats at his hands, but he catches them easily and gives them a squeeze. They don’t really do physical affection — maybe one day — but for right now this is nice. 

“Is that Zoe!?” Connor’s boyfriend Jackson calls, appearing behind Connor and pulling her into a hug that lifts her just slightly off the ground. “Are you going to do face masks with us?” He asks when he puts her down and steps back. 

“Face masks?” Zoe says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Hey, just because I’m not in the wedding party doesn’t mean I can’t look hot as hell,” Connor says. 

“Hmmm sounds fun, but I think Natalie and I are gonna just chill and watch some wedding shows,” Zoe says. 

“Invite her up,” Jackson says.

“Uhhhhh,” Zoe says. 

“No, that’s my bad,” Jared calls from within, appearing at the end of the hall. “I was an asshole at dinner, soooo she probably doesn’t wanna hang out with us.” 

“I mean, there’s these fancy newfangled things called apologies,” Connor says. 

“Or grovelling,” Zoe suggests. 

“Hey, now, grovelling I can do,” Jared says. “With a side of overpriced vending machine candy?” 

Zoe shrugs. “She might go for that. I’ll ask.” 

Evan also appears, significantly more steady and sober. “Hey, did you get my texts?” 

“Oh my god, this is absurd, I will come inside, you don’t all need to gather at the door,” Zoe says, waving her hands at them until they all step back and let the door close behind her. 

Their room is an exact replica of hers a few floors above, and she stares for a long moment at Connor’s familiar duffel bag before turning incredulously to her brother. “Are you rooming with _Evan and Jared_?” 

“Hurtful,” Jared says dryly, slipping past her on a quest for overpriced candy. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Zoe says halfheartedly. And she really didn’t. Connor is ridiculously private and needs his own space at the chillest of times. A big family event where he’s going to have to see dad isn’t exactly a recipe for low stress. 

“Hotel rooms are expensive,” Connor explains with a shrug. “Besides, it’s one night, what’s the worst that could happen?” 

“Double homicide,” Zoe suggests. 

“Hey!” Connor protests, flopping into the desk chair. “Jackson would never let that happen, right babe?” 

Jackson looks up from where he’s been fiddling with the TV. “I wasn’t listening, what?” 

“Just say yes.” 

“Uh, yes.” 

Connor claps his hands, and spreads them like a magician showing off a trick as if to say ‘see, I told you.’ 

“Very convincing,” Zoe says, leaning against the mini fridge. 

“See, that’s why you should come hang out here with us, keep an eye on things and- _Oh my god_ what did you do to _your nails_?” Connor says, standing and grabbing her hand with the ruined nail. 

“I’m gonna fix it!” Zoe says, pulling her hand back. “Calm down.” 

Connor clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “You’re killing me, Zo.” 

“Uh, sorry, to interrupt,” Evan says from where he’s been hovering at her periphery. “Did you get my texts?” 

“I left my phone in my room,” She says, dodging the question. 

“Oh,” Evan says. “Okay.” A silence yawns between them as Zoe waits to see if Evan will actually tell her what this whole thing was about. 

“Okay, well I’m gonna go back to my room then,” Zoe says, backing up awkwardly for the door. 

Connor pokes her in the side as she walks by him. “Go get your friend, it’s face mask time.” 

“I’m not making any promises,” Zoe says over her shoulder, and allows herself to self indulgently lean against the wall for a moment when it clicks closed. She closes her eyes, rubbing at the tension in her forehead, and when she opens them again Jared is standing a few feet away, arms full of snacks, staring at her. 

“Uh, you okay?” He asks, with a level of genuine concern Zoe’s never seen Jared extend to anyone who isn’t Evan. 

“Yeah I’m…” Zoe waves a hand noncommittally. “Today has just been a lot.” 

“Hey, uh,” Jared lowers his voice. “I am really sorry about earlier, I don’t even have Evan’s excuse of being hammered, I’m just kind of a loud obnoxious person. Which you knew. Obviously. But, like, still not cool. And I totally get if you wanna skip out or whatever, and if you do I’ll cover for you with Evan. But if you want to hang out with us, I do actually think it will be fun.” 

Zoe blinks at him for a second. “You’re being serious.” 

“Don’t tell anyone, it’s bad for my reputation as a heartless asshole,” Jared says. “Oh here, I got these for you, your favourites.” He hands her an Almond Joy and a 3 Musketeers Bar and she lets out an incredulous laugh. 

“How did you—?”

“Eighth grade band trip,” Jared finishes for her, snapping his fingers. “You ate like seven on the bus and threw up when we got to the hotel.” 

Zoe tilts her head at him. “Oh my god, I totally forgot about that. How do you even remember that?” 

Jared shrugs and fumbles around in his pockets for his key card. “Who the fuck knows, the human mind is a marvel.” 

She takes that as the end of the conversation and takes a few steps towards the elevator, but she can’t help herself from spinning back on her heel. “Hey, Jared? Do you still play the trumpet?” 

He makes a startled little noise. “ _Wellll_ , I’ve been known to bust it out on the rare special occasion.” 

“Oh, I bet Evan loves that.” 

“That’s none of your business, Murphy,” Jared says, opening the door to his room. 

“Good,” Zoe says firmly, setting back off towards the elevator. 

Natalie has moved off her bed on to the floor, her head resting on her bent knees when Zoe returns, her damp hair in a low ponytail. 

“Hey,” Natalie says, grinning up at her as Zoe drops the makeup bag of polishes and the candy bars on the bed. “You get lost?”

Zoe huffs an awkward laugh. “Yeah, uh, funny story. I got accosted by my brother and his boyfriend. They’re rooming with Jared and Evan and they want us to come do face masks with them. Jared has promised grovelling and overpriced vending machine candy in exchange for our presence.” 

Natalie turns the volume on the TV down. “Well, I do love me some overpriced candy.” 

“We don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I’m honestly cool to keep tabs on who we think is getting divorced after spending twenty grand on a wedding dress.” 

“Tell them that’s our condition,” Natalie says, already standing and searching through her suitcase. “We will come only if we get control of the TV.” 

“Fair enough,” Zoe says, and she can’t tell if she’s disappointed or not that Natalie didn’t want to spend the rest of the night with her. 

She searches on the duvet for her phone so she can text Connor, ignoring the flurry of incoming messages from Evan and hitting ignore because she’s in too good of a mood to want to deal with that. Besides, she’s 90% sure it’s just going to be another string of awkward apologies laced with layers of guilt and she is trying to turn over a new leaf or something. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” Natalie says, turning off the TV, paperback novel and phone in hand. “There better be grovelling candy that’s not Almond Joys though, who even likes those?” 

“Hey!” Zoe says with mock indignation. “I have unique tastes.” 

“Mhmmm, ‘unique’” Natalie says, pulling the door open for her. 

“Well we’ll see who’s laughing when we get to the bottom of that Hershey’s favourites Halloween box and I’m swimming in Almond Joys and you had to share all the Kit-Kats with like four other people.” Zoe’s distracted enough by her own impassioned speech that she keeps walking right past the elevator. 

“Oh, whoa,” Natalie says, reaching out and placing a guiding hand on her hip and Zoe lets herself be lead more than she really needs to back towards the elevator. 

Evan answers the door to their room. “Hey again,” he says, shoving over so they can maneuver through the narrow hallway. “Natalie, this is, uh, Jackson and Connor, Zoe’s brother and his boyfriend.” 

Jackson waves from where he’s settled up against the headboard of the far bed, Connor sitting cross legged in the middle. 

“Hey Natalie,” Connor says looking up, his hair pulled up into a messy bun. “What’s your skin type?” 

“Oh,” Natalie says, clearly taken aback. “Um, I think like, just normal skin?” 

Connor frowns. “You don’t get dry patches? Oily in your T-Zone? Breakouts?” 

“Um, I don’t think so?” Natalie says, shooting Zoe a concerned look. 

“Ignore him,” Zoe says, sitting on the other bed. “He works at Lush.” 

Connor shoots her a dirty look as he crosses over to the mini fridge and pulls out half a dozen small black pots, setting them on the desk and sorting through them. “Let’s try Don’t Look at Me,” he says finally, passing the pot to Natalie. “It’s blue,” he adds, like this is a selling point. 

“I trust you,” Natalie says, and disappears into the bathroom.

It’s funny watching Connor like this, bizarrely confident and entirely in his element, even if that element is face masks. “Here, Zoe you gotta share with Jared, you both have the same skin type.” 

Jared, who’s been sitting at the desk chair, puts his hand over his heart and pulls a face like he’s just been crowned Miss America, and Zoe’s impressed that he still manages to catch the pot when Connor hurls it at him with surprising force. 

He tosses it much more gently to Zoe. “Ladies first.” 

Zoe rolls her eyes and makes her way to the bathroom, letting out a startled noise when she sees Natalie, the blue mask smeared all over her face. 

“That bad?” Natalie asks. 

“No, you look really cute,” Zoe says, not even trying to cover up the affection in her voice. Which is worth it when Natalie beams at her. “I gotta, um, put mine on,” Zoe says, feeling herself tumble over the words like tripping on a crack in the sidewalk. 

She stares at herself in the bathroom mirror when she’s done, and she doesn’t look half as cute as Natalie did, her mask a sort of dull green which makes her think of low-budget alien movies. 

“Can someone bring us a towel?” Jared calls, and Zoe grabs a stack of washcloths on her way back into the main part of the room. She sets them on the bed beside Evan, who is trying to sit very still while Jared smears the mask on his face. 

“It’s cold,” Evan whines. 

“Yeah, it was in the fucking fridge, what do you expect?” Jared says sharply, but his hands are gentle on Evan’s face. 

Natalie grins at her from the other bed, patting the spot beside her for Zoe. “Come take selfies with me!” 

Zoe crams in beside her, Natalie adjusting so they’re pressed right up against each other. “I look like a lizard,” Zoe says, looking at the picture. 

“Awww, but a very cute lizard,” Natalie says, and it’s a good fucking thing that the mask is hiding how red Zoe can feel herself going. 

“This really brings me back to my Lush days,” Jackson says warmly from where he and Connor somehow have managed to sit together on the armchair clearly intended for a single occupant. 

“Oh, you mean when you kept coming to the store to see me?” Connor says. 

“Hey, I really care about high quality natural products,” Jackson says. “And the cute gangly dudes who want to sell them to me.” 

Zoe rolls her eyes. She’s heard this story a thousand times, but she can’t begrudge Jackson even a little, not when he makes Connor so happy. 

“How many bath bombs did you buy before you asked me out?” Connor teases. 

“Uh, how many black things did _you_ buy from American Eagle before I asked you out?” Jackson counters. 

“Touche.” 

“Okay, can I just say something?” Jared says. “I have never fucking understood what a bath bomb _is_. Like what’s the point?” 

Zoe looks over her shoulder at him. “It’s, like, a fizzy thing you put in the bath with you.” 

Jared shakes his head. “No, like, I get the theoretical concept, but what does it _do_?” 

Connor kicks a foot lazily. “Well, like, some of ours have different essential oils in them, but they don’t really do anything, they just fizz and look pretty and smell good..” 

Jared squints at him. “No offense but that is the s _tupidest_ fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Natalie laughs delightedly beside her. “The anti-bath bomb league.” 

“See!” Jared says, “Natalie gets me.” She tilts her head at him and shoots a double set of finger guns. 

“ _Bath bombs_ , what the crap,” he mutters with disgust, mostly to himself. 

Zoe expects Connor to kick up a fuss in defense of his beloved employer, but when she looks over at him he’s not looking at Jared, he’s looking very deliberately between her and Natalie. 

Oh fuck. 

God, this is why she can’t have nice things. 

Connor leans over to say something to Jackson that she can’t hear from this far away, but Zoe can guess. She predicts she’ll have some interested text messages in the next few minutes.

“Here,” Zoe says, handing Natalie the remote. “You can be channel master.” 

The wedding shows they’d been watching earlier have finished, so she flips around aimlessly before landing on a channel showing _Wall-E_ , still in the first few minutes of the film. 

“Ooo!” Evan exclaims delightedly, in an entirely involuntary way. 

“Doesn’t this movie make you cry?” Zoe asks, at the exact same moment that Jared says “No, I’m not dealing with you _weeping_ all over the place tonight.” 

They stare at each other for a long moment before Jared finally claps his hands and breaks the weird silence. “That’s it, that’s the official Evan Hansen dating experience, him crying while you try and watch _Wall-E_. Zero chance of making out whatsoever.” 

“Jared, go put your mask on,” Evan says grumpily, shoving the container at him. 

“Yes honey,” Jared says sweetly, swanning off to the bathroom. He re-emerges a few minutes later, now green, his glasses set very carefully on the bridge of his nose, and walks past his own bed, instead coming to sit with her and Natalie. 

“Zoe, I’ve gotta ask you something, boyfriend to ex-girlfriend,” he says, and Zoe sees Evan aggressively roll his eyes behind him. “Did Evan ever do that thing to you where he’d call you ‘sweetie’ and, like, you could tell he really, _really_ wanted to, like, mentally, but that every physical fibre of his body was rebelling against it. Like it was physically paining him to say.” 

Zoe barks out a startled laugh and nods. “Oh my god, yes! That’s exactly what it’s like. Like his eyes say, I want to show you affection but his mouth just hates what it’s saying.” 

“Holy shit,” Connor laughs behind her, but Zoe’s not done. 

“Okay, does he still wear that freaking Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers?” 

Jared laughs. “Yes, oh my god.” 

“The first time we kissed, I had, like, vivid flashbacks to kissing Jenny Hermann behind the music cabin at camp in seventh grade.” 

“Aww, I like it,” Jared says. “It’s adorable.” 

Zoe wrinkles her nose. “See, this is why you guys are dating right now and we’re not.” 

“Yeah,” Connor says. “ _That’s_ the reason.”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t want to be reminded of my middle school gay panic every time we kissed,” Zoe says. “Especially because Jenny dumped me two days later right by the rock climbing wall.” 

“Ouch,” Jared says. “If it makes you feel better, the first time I ever did stuff with a guy was at camp the summer between sophomore and junior year and, uh, we fooled around a bunch behind the computer cluster and well, let’s just say the camp nurse very kindly never asked questions about why I was kneeling in all that poison ivy.” 

“Ho-ly _shit_ ,” Connor says again. 

“Yeah it fucking sucked, pun intended, but uh, at least I wasn’t the one with poison ivy all over my pelvis,” Jared says. 

Natalie suddenly sits up straighter. “Wait, what camp was this at?” 

Jared hesitates. “Uh, Camp Tavor, it’s a Jewish camp in Michigan.” 

Natalie’s eyes go wide and she goes scrambling for her phone. “Oh my god,” she laughs to herself. “Oh my fucking god.” 

“What? What are you doing?” Jared says, leaning over to squint at her phone but Natalie pulls it back. 

“I’m fact checking, give me a second!” She scrolls through her phone and Zoe catches Evan giving her a confused look but she just shrugs, no more privy to what the hell Natalie is doing than anyone else. 

“Okay,” Natalie says finally, turning her phone towards Jared. “Is this the guy you gave the poison ivy blow job to?” 

Zoe leans over so she can see the photo — it’s some guy with dark hair standing like George Washington crossing the Delaware in front of a sign that says Camp Tavor. 

“Fuck. Me.” Jared says. “What the _fuck_ , how do you know Henry!?”

Natalie grins at him delightedly. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.” 

The hotel room explodes. Zoe hears herself let out a delighted shriek and suddenly Connor is quite literally rolling on their floor laughing, having pulled Jackson onto the ground with him, Natalie has fallen back into the mattress, her shoulders shaking as she laughs up at the ceiling, and Jared is talking so loudly and so fast that she can’t make out any of it. 

“It’s kismet!” Connor declares from the floor. “Kismet.” 

“Wait,” Evan says, getting up. “Let me see.” Jared passes him Natalie’s phone and he considers the photo of Henry for a long moment. “He’s cute,” Evan says finally. 

“Don’t say that like it’s a _surprise_ ,” Jared pouts, and Evan pats the top of his head placatingly. He’s got an unreadable expression on his face, but the mask smeared on his face sort of ruins any seriousness it might hold. Especially because his fringe has gotten in it and is stuck to his forehead. 

“Gimme my phone,” Natalie says, pulling herself back up, her eyes watering from laughing so hard. “I gotta text him, this is too fucking funny.” She flips through her phone, and then pauses. “Actually wait, it’s Friday right?” 

“For about twenty more minutes, yeah,” Connor says, sitting up. 

“Oh perfect,” Natalie says, and then looks around at them. “Uh, are any of you underage?” 

“Yeah we both are,” Evan says, waving a hand between himself and Jared.

“I’m not,” Jackson adds. 

“Zoe is,” Connor says, and it’s like she’s being tattled on for eating bread during their mom’s weird gluten free phase all over again. 

“Uh, excuse me, you are _also_ underage,” Zoe snaps. 

Connor shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m not going to drink.” 

Zoe rolls her eyes. 

Natalie tilts her head at her, and a wisp of her hair has escaped from the ponytail and is curled over her ear. “I can probably get you guys in, it should be fine.” 

“Get us in where?” Zoe asks cautiously, but Natalie’s already got the phone to her ear. 

“Hey pumpkin!” she chirps into the phone. “You’re working tonight, right? Oh awesome. Perfect. Uh huh? I’m gonna bring some people from the wedding party, is that cool?” 

There’s a long pause, the tinny sound of a guy’s voice coming out of the phone but Zoe can’t make out anything specifically. “I will personally keep an eye on them, promise,” Natalie says finally, shooting a glance at her. 

Zoe’s heart hammers in her chest and she can tell without looking that Connor is staring at her again. God, it would be really nice if for _once_ she could like someone without Connor observing the whole thing over her shoulder. 

“Okay,” Natalie says with a laugh, jarring Zoe out of her introspective moment. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon. Oh, and I have a surprise for you! No, I’m not telling, you gotta wait. Okay. Love you!” 

“ _Ex_ -boyfriend?” Jared says, and Zoe can just tell he’s trying his hardest not to sound like an asshole. 

Natalie shrugs and pulls her knees up to her chest. “It was super amicable. We’re still really close. But that’s not the point, the point is, who’s ready to go to Chicago’s third best gay bar?”

“Oh hell yes,” Connor says. “Honestly the fact that we’re not at a gay bar right now is basically homophobia.” 

“Con, you’re the one who wanted to do face masks in the first place,” Jackson counters but Connor waves a hand at him, standing, his knees cracking loudly. 

“I dunno,” Jared says. “Don’t you guys have to be up kind of early for wedding stuff?” 

“It’s not even midnight!” Natalie says. “Besides, you and Zoe got to mock Evan, it’s only fair that Evan and Henry get a chance to mock you.” 

“Yeah, it’s only fair,” Evan echoes. 

Jared shoots Zoe a look, but she holds her hands up in self defense. “Hey, don’t blame me, you’re the one who brought up the lip smackers.” 

“Traitor,” Jared says melodramatically. “And to think, all of this after everything we shared in middle school band.” 

“Yeah, that time you let me borrow your sheet music for Jazzoo was a real important bonding moment,” Zoe scoffs. 

“Okay, get out,” Connor says, gesturing towards the door while digging in his suitcase. “I’ve got to put together an ensemble.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not getting on the elevator with this crap on my face,” Zoe says, and dutifully follows Natalie to the bathroom so she can scrub herself un-green. 

Back in their room, Zoe watches as Natalie wanders gracefully back and forth from between the bathroom and the common area, pulling together an effortless outfit, while Zoe feels awkward sitting on her bed, having just put back on what she was wearing earlier. 

Natalie’s fiddling with her second earring when Zoe gets the text from Connor that they’re down in the lobby. 

“I bet you five bucks Connor is wearing something all-black, completely indistinguishable from every other black outfit he wears every other day,” Zoe says, grabbing her room key and throwing it in her bag. 

“You know,” Natalie says, finally getting her earring on and tossing her hair over her shoulder, “I haven’t known your brother very long but that seems like a very bad bet to take.” 

“Smart lady,” Zoe says, watching and practically swooning as Natalie puts a paperback novel and the pack of Starbursts into her little clutch bag. If she hadn’t been feeling all sorts of gay feelings already, that would really have tipped the scales. 

Connor is, in fact, wearing an all black outfit — well, his pants might arguably be dark grey — but she raises her eyebrows wordlessly at Natalie anyways. 

“I know I didn’t take the bet, but here I will give you this yellow starburst as a consolation prize,” she says, digging the piece of candy out of her bag and setting it gently in the middle of Zoe’s palm. 

“What’s the plan, uh, car wise?” Jackson says. “We’ve got Con’s car, but that only seats five.” 

“I have a car,” Natalie says, jangling her keys. “It’s _technically_ a four seater but uh, in practice it’s more of a two seater. Unless you have really, really short legs.” 

“Jared, you can go with Natalie then,” Connor says and Jared, expression completely neutral, says nothing but reaches over to the complimentary computer kiosk and just hurls a pen at him. The night desk manager looks over at them tiredly but doesn’t say anything. 

“ _I’ll_ go with Natalie,” Zoe says. “You guys go in Connor’s car.” 

“Okay wait, wait, wait, real quick let’s take some pics,” Connor says, retrieving the hurled complimentary pen from the floor and tucking it behind his ear. 

Natalie hooks her arm around Zoe’s waist and she smells so nice, like expensive bodywash and pink Starbursts. Jackson scooches in on her other side while Connor uses the advantage of his crazy noodle arms to take the picture. 

“Awwww perfect, I look great,” Connor says. “I wanna do a Snapchat video, okay, everyone look cute and wave.” 

“Who’s this for?” Jared asks, his chin hooked over Evan’s shoulder. 

“Alana!” Connor says pressing record and panning over them. “Wow, lookit all these cuties ready to go to the club, but honestly I’d trade all of them for you! I wish you were here!” 

“Wow. You know, words hurt Connor,” Jackson deadpans but lets Connor reel him in for an apology smooch. 

While Evan and Connor’s friendship was definitely interesting and unconventional, especially given, you know, the complete falsehood on which their relationship was originally based, it at least sort of made sense on paper. 

Connor becoming best friends with Alana Beck was really something entirely out of left field. Because yeah, sure, they were both gay and lonely, but Alana was still Alana and Connor was still Connor and Zoe was ultimately pleased but confused about the whole thing. 

Natalie breaks away to give the address to Jackson and suggests a few places for parking while Connor sends her a whole row of eye emojis. _Grow up_ , Zoe texts back and immediately regrets it as she watches Connor furiously texting back. 

_this is u when natalie,_ he says, followed by a line of heart eyes. 

Zoe flips him off rather than texting back, and it’s a rather unfortunate issue of sight lines that Connor happens to duck his head down, right as Evan standing behind him looks up and over at her. 

‘ _Me_?’ He mouths, pointing a finger at his chest and Zoe shakes her head and waves her hands dismissively. 

“What, are we playing charades now?” Jared says. “Uh, movie? Book? Song?” 

“Oh my god,” Evan says. “Stop it, you’re not funny.” 

“Are you sure?” Jared says, leaning up, clearly angling for a kiss, and Zoe whirls around on her heel. 

“I’m good to go,” she says. “Uh, Natalie?”

“Yup, I’m good,” Natalie says, looping the wrist strap of her bag over her wrist and maneuvering her hands into her coat pocket. “We’ll rendezvous with you guys when we get downtown.” 

Which turns out to be sort of a terrible plan, because men, and they spend half an hour wandering around a completely different parking garage than the one the boys ended up at. By the time they actually get to the bar, Zoe’s shivering and wishing she’d brought a warmer jacket, but refusing to admit that she’s cold like the good Midwesterner she is. 

“Do we _really_ have to do this?” Jared whines behind her. “Can’t we just do something wholesome, like go bowling? Do we really need to make entertainment out of the mutual humiliation of me and Natalie’s ex?” 

“You lost the right to doing something wholesome when you got freaky in a patch of poison ivy,” Natalie says, her breath icy in the night air. 

“She’s got a point,” Jackson adds helpfully. 

“Okay hold on, hold on,” Natalie says, as they round the corner towards the bar, looking at her phone.“He said he’s still on door, so he should be able to get you in fine,” she says, touching Zoe lightly on the arm.

There’s a decent sized muddle of people outside the bar, people smoking and chatting and a few by the door waiting for ID checks and bag searches. 

“I’m still mad you’re making me do this,” Jared says, “but I will admit the gay energy of this place is very soothing.” 

They move up the line and Zoe gets a glimpse of Henry in between the shoulders of the couple in front of them. He’s cute. He’s really cute, actually, with dark hair curling gently over his forehead and dimples.

“Hey jitterbug!” He says, catching sight of Natalie and pulling her into a hug, rocking her back and forth slightly. 

Natalie pulls back, a strand of hair caught over her cheek. “As promised, I have a surprise for you.” She gestures like a showcase showgirl at Jared, and Henry lets out a pleased, excited noise. 

“Jared _Kleinman_! Oh my god,” Henry says pulling him into a hug, not like a bro hug, a proper full bodied hug. 

Zoe can’t see Jared’s face from his angle, but she can sense his awkward bewilderment from his back alone. Henry finally lets him go, but keeps his hand firmly planted on his shoulder. “And hey, you must be everyone else from the wedding party, welcome,” he says, beaming at all of them. 

There’s something about him, glowing warm and bright like a fucking sun on the sidewalk at 12:55 am on a cold night in February. Friendliness and joy radiate off of him like a space heater.

So this is Natalie’s type. She tries not to take it to heart, but Zoe has enough notes in her yearbook about how _I used to think you were really mean/stuck up/unfriendly but you’re actually nice!_ to know that the venn diagram of her and Henry is two circles. 

Henry inconspicuously skips checking everyone’s IDs, fixing neon pink wristbands on them and ushering them inside. “I’m on break at one, I’ll come find you guys!” He calls to Natalie, giving them a wave before turning to the next group of people in line. 

It’s busy, but not as crazy as Zoe expected on a Friday night and they manage to snag a booth near the back under a big neon palm tree. Jackson and Connor disappear to the bathroom.

“He calls you jitterbug?” Jared finally bursts out, clearly having barely contained himself up to this point, and Natalie laughs. 

“Oh my god, okay, that’s a long story.” She brushes her curls out of her face and spreads her hands dramatically like a director setting the scene. “So, we’d been dating a few months, this was back in high school, and my dad points out that we never call each other by pet names and Henry, because it’s fucking Henry, starts calling me every melodramatic pet name under the sun. You know, _ironically_ , and then I started doing it and then it sort of stopped being ironic? Jitterbug was just the one that stuck.” 

“Isn’t that sort of—” Evan cuts off suddenly. “I mean, okay, okay, okay, it’s not, I don’t think it’s—” He cuts off abruptly and takes a long second to gather his thoughts. “I just think it’s interesting, but I mean in a really good nice way, that you’re so close even though you’re not dating anymore.” 

“I mean,” Natalie starts hesitantly. “Like, I totally get where you’re coming from cause a lot of people aren’t friends with their exes, but it just seems sort of crazy to me to put all of this time and effort and trust into a relationship with another person and then just, give it all up?” 

Zoe is not looking at Evan. She is not looking at Evan, she is _not_ looking at Evan. But oh, she knows, Evan is looking at her. 

Natalie frowns for a moment, considering. “I mean obviously unless, I guess, if cheating was involved or you found out you’re dating a serial killer or something.” 

“Who’s a serial killer?” Henry says, suddenly appearing at their booth, taking off his coat and scarf. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Natalie slides farther into the booth, bumping against Zoe’s hip and pushing her into Jared who doesn’t seem to mind, but Evan pulls his arm back from where it was settled over Jared’s shoulder when she brushes against it involuntarily. 

Connor and Jackson reappear from the bathroom and survey the booth for a second. “I’m gonna grab a chair,” Jackson says. “I don’t think we’re all squishing in here.” 

“Not with that attitude” Connor says. 

“Okay,” Natalie chirps, clapping her hands, once Jackson’s returned with a chair. “Uh, should we do introductions?” 

“Hit me,” Henry says, stretching his arms out across the top of the booth. 

“This will also be me attempting to remember everyone’s names and relations,” Natalie says, “So that’ll be fun.” 

“Well, I already know Jared, so you can’t fuck up that one too much,” Henry says, and Zoe feels his leg brush by hers and kick Jared lightly under the table. 

“You’re an asshole,” Jared says matter of factly. 

“Okay and then Evan,” Natalie says, “Who is one of Isaac’s groomsmen and also his cousin, but not on the same side as me. Also Jared’s boyfriend. And then Connor is Zoe’s brother— oh shit sorry, I skipped you, Zoe,” Natalie says turning towards her and holding onto her arm.“This is Zoe and she’s the bride’s cousin and one of the bridesmaids and she’s an angel and will hopefully be very forgiving about me skipping her.” 

“Oh,” Zoe says, feeling her face flush. “Yeah, it’s okay. I mean it’s Jared’s fault anyways.” 

“Thanks.”

Henry drums his hands on the table. “Okay, so Connor?” 

“Yeah, Connor is Zoe’s brother and also his boyfriend….who is very nice and handsome and whose name I can’t remember,” Natalie says, squinting at Jackson. “Wait, okay, don’t tell me. It was….Started with a J....Jay-No! Jackson! Jackson?” 

“Yeah, you got there,” Jackson says good naturedly. “Does anyone want anything? I think I’m gonna head to the bar.” 

“Hey no,” Henry says jumping up. “First round’s on me, I absolutely insist.” 

“Oh no, don’t do that,” Jared says sarcastically, and then plainly. “Yeah, I want a vodka tonic. A double.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want a 6-pack of PBR and a canoe to cry about your crush on Evan in- Oh!” Henry’s face is suddenly flooded with realization, and he points aggressively between Jared and Evan. “Wait, _Evan_!? Like _Evan_ -Evan? Your Evan?” 

“Yes like...that Evan,” Jared grits out. “Look, can we please wait til I have a drink to do the rest of this humiliation?” Evan turns to Jared, perplexed, staring at him expectantly. “I’ll tell you later,” he adds. 

“Natalie, I know you want a ginger ale, is anyone else not drinking? We have really awesome mocktails,” Henry says, pulling up a note on his phone to take orders. 

“Yeah, I’m not drinking either,” Connor says, leaning forwards. “I want whatever’s the most, like, colourful and obnoxious umbrella-laden thing you can bring me.” 

Henry nods, typing. “Evan?” 

“Oh,” Evan says, sounding caught off guard. “I think I might not drink either. It just makes me sleepy.” 

“You ever try jagerbombs?” Henry asks helpfully. “Use the caffeine jolt to counteract the sleepiness.” 

“Um,” Evan says. “Okay. I’ll try it I guess.” 

“Atta boy,” Henry says. “What do you want, Zoe?”

“Uh, something blue,” Zoe says. “I literally don’t care what as long as it’s blue.” Henry’s brow furrows in bemusement but he dutifully types it into his phone. Jackson gets what Zoe assumes is a craft beer because he’s one of _those_ guys and then Henry’s gone, off to order their drinks. 

“Bathroom?” Natalie asks, looking over at her, and Zoe nods gratefully, clambering out of the booth after her. 

It’s one of those bathrooms that has a sort of waiting area before you go into the bathroom proper and Zoe collapses melodramatically onto the chaise lounge. 

“You’re adorable,” Natalie says and Zoe’s heart beats lopsidedly. “Coming?” 

“I honestly just needed to get away from all those people,” Zoe says, throwing an arm over her eyes. Everything about today has just been set to eleven and she’s exhausted trying to keep up. 

Natalie pats her sweetly on the foot as she goes by. “Okay, I’m gonna pee. Hold my bag?” Zoe sets the clutch on her stomach and stares up at the ceiling. She lets herself breathe deeply. Four in. Hold seven. Eight out. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Natalie says, reappearing over her and Zoe sits up so she can share the chaise with her. 

“Nothing really,” Zoe says, wishing that she had something more impressive to say. “Uh, Henry seems really great. He’s very nice. Like so nice, I cannot believe he liked Jared.” 

Natalie laughs. “Yeah, he’s the best.” 

Zoe chews on her lip, trying to talk herself out of asking, but she’s too curious to let it lie. “Not to be nosy, like— you don’t have to tell me, but I was wondering—”

“—If Henry and I are best bros for life why did we break up?” Natalie finishes, and Zoe grins sheepishly. She’s clearly been asked a thousand times. 

“I don’t know,” Natalie says with a shrug. “Like, normally I tell people we just weren’t compatible as a couple and they usually buy that cause I’m really uptight and stressed and serious and Henry’s, well, not. But honestly that’s more why we work than anything else.” 

She pauses for a long moment, scuffing her boots on the black and white checkerboard floor of the bathroom. “When we met, when we first started dating, Henry was exactly what I needed romantically — he really was my first love and he knows that. But I guess, in the process of me becoming more me he just wasn’t what I needed anymore? Does that make any sense?”

“It does, yeah,” Zoe says, pushing down the sudden jarring impulse to grab Natalie’s hand. 

Natalie runs a hand through her hair. “I never tell anyone about this. I have no idea why I’m telling you,” she says, mostly to herself. 

“Oh.” 

“No, no, no. Oh my god, please, don’t think that’s bad. It’s a compliment, I swear,” Natalie backpedals, and does she sound nervous or is that just Zoe being hopeful? 

“I believe you,” Zoe says and Natalie stands abruptly, shaking herself out like she’s been sitting down for too long. 

“My hair is _killing_ me tonight,” she says running her hands through it. “I should have known this would happen when I air dried it, but I thought we were just staying in for the night.” 

“I think your hair is gorgeous,” Zoe says, leaning forward, the toe of her boot barely making contact with the floor. She tries to figure out a way she can tell Natalie that her hair makes her remember the peony bushes they used to have in front of their house when she was growing up, but her tongue can’t quite catch up with the sentiment so she lets it settle warm but lonely in her heart. 

“Ugh, I don’t have a hair clip and a ponytail isn’t going to contain this much,” she pouts. 

“You could braid it?” 

“I could, but I’m really bad at doing it on myself—”

“—I could braid it for you if you’d like. If it’s really bothering you,” Zoe says. Too fast. Too eager. Jesus christ, Murphy, cool your jets. 

“Oh my gosh, would you?” Natalie says, and turns her back to her. “Or is this alright? Do you want me to sit and you stand? I’ve never really had anyone do this for me before.” 

“This is fine,” Zoe says, her hands hovering over Natalie’s hair for a moment. “Uh, let me know if I’m hurting you or whatever.” 

“Okay,” Natalie says very softly, and then they don’t speak for a long time, Zoe’s hands weaving her way through Natalie’s hair, getting her to move her head with a slight touch to her shoulder or her neck. The silence between them isn’t awkward, just quiet. Almost holy. 

Zoe hates to break it when she gets to the end, holding the tail of the braid lightly. “You said you had an elastic?” 

“Here,” Natalie says, passing it over her shoulder, and Natalie keeps her eyes fixed to the clasp of her necklace as she loops the band. 

“Go look, see if you like it,” Zoe says, her hands hovering just over Natalie’s shoulders. 

Her boots click on the tile floor as she goes to inspect herself in the mirror. “That’s a _thousand_ times better, thank you so much. We should probably head back, they’re going to think we fell in or something.” 

Zoe nods, and takes the hand that Natalie offers to her to pull herself off the chaise. The braid does look pretty on her, just a basic dutch braid, the kind Zoe used to do all the time when her hair was longer. It looks very pretty, but she regrets having done it so neatly and tight, already missing the curling wisps of her hair. 

Henry’s returned with their drinks and is in the middle of some enthusiastic story when they return to the booth. Connor gives Zoe a pointed look over the rim of his glass and she accidentally on purpose kicks him under the table as she slides in. As promised Henry has brought her an aggressively blue drink, something slushie and tropical tasting. 

“—Anyways. We all get back from checking on the kids and Jared is just, like, in the beached canoe _weeping_ — _”_

“—I was _not_ don’t fucking exaggerate—”

“—fine you were drunk as shit and your eyes glimmered with unrequited love. Better?” 

“Sounds about the best I’m gonna get,” Jared says. 

“Can I finish please?” Henry says with mock annoyance. “Because we were all super worried that maybe you’d gotten hurt or something, but nope, you’re all distraught because Evan is _so cute_ and _so nice_ and his _delicate wrists_ make you _feel things_.” 

Connor snorts into his drink, but Evan, clearly a little bit tipsy already, is looking at Jared awestruck. “Did you really say that?” 

“More or less.” 

“I can’t believe you liked me.” 

Jared’s forehead wrinkles. “We’re dating?” 

“No, no, I know we’re— obviously you like me _now_ but this was a long time ago. Like before senior year even,” Evan frowns down at the tabletop.“Wait a minute, what about the girl from Israel?” 

“What girl from Israel?” 

“You said — don’t laugh at me Jared you said you did — you said you got to, that you’d, you know, um, done stuff with a girl from Israel?” 

“ _Stuff_?” Jared asks incredulously. 

“Like, second base stuff,” Evan finally forces out. 

Zoe can’t contain a burst of laughter, which she poorly attempts to cover as a cough, but the mental image of Jared doing anything romantic with a girl, much less getting to second base, is absurd in its own right. 

Jared shoots her a look. “Well, I lied. Obviously.” 

Henry perks up at this. “Wait, is he talking about the thing with Hanna?” 

“ _You_ weren’t even _there_ for that!” He exclaims. “What the fuck, how do you even know about that? I mean I _know_ why, it’s because Jeremy can’t fucking keep his _mouth_ shut about anything ever. But still. What the fuck.” 

Okay, now this, this Zoe wants to hear and Natalie elbows her softly in the side. “I’ve heard this story, it’s amazing,” she says softly so only Zoe can hear her. 

“Wait, okay, before I start I just gotta say,” Jared says, and abruptly turns to Evan, startling him. “Evan, I love you, but for the love of god please stop drinking your jagerbomb like you’re a demure lady about town sipping lemonade at your lover’s afternoon tea.” 

“I-what?” Evan says, startled. 

“You’re not supposed to sip it you just throw it back.” 

He frowns, taking another small stubborn sip. 

“Evan, you are literally killing me,” Jared says. 

“Can we not get off topic? Did you actually touch an actual human woman’s chest?” Connor cuts in, clearly intrigued. 

“Technically? Yes,” Jared says letting out a long breath before adding. “Intentionally? No.” He tips his glass back and finishes the rest of his drink, clearly bracing himself for this story.

“Okay, so as part of CIT and LIT training at camp we have to get lifeguard certified and they have a special week after all the other campers and counsellors and stuff go home so we can just spend a whole week doing that and first aid stuff.” 

“Anyways, uh, we’re doing water rescue and I’m paired with this girl Hanna, and she’s wearing a bathing suit with one of those, you know, like the tops that tie around your neck?” 

“A halter top?” Jackson, of all fucking people, supplies helpfully. 

“Yeah. So as she’s, like, pretending to be an unconscious body and I’m swim-carrying her to the docks, it somehow comes untied. And I don’t notice until we’re up on the docks and Hanna’s one of those girls who is, like, _very_ comfortable with her body. So she’s lying there, her tits _fully out_ , me, very gay, and she’s just still pretending to be fucking unconscious and our leader is, like, shouting at me to start doing the fake CPR so I just….do? And you kind of can’t, um, not touch them?” 

Connor is fully wheezing at this point, leaning heavily against Jackson and Evan has a dazed disbelieving look on his face. 

“I cannot believe you have gotten to second base with a girl and I haven’t—” Zoe says, chewing on a straw. “There really is no justice in the world.” 

“Wait, you forgot the best part!” Henry says. “So they finish the CPR stuff—” 

“—Excuse me asshole you were _not there_ ,” Jared says aggressively. “So we finish CPR and she gets ‘saved’ and we have to switch places, and she just sits up, fixes her top, pats me on the arm and says “You’re welcome.” Honestly it was kind of a blessing that I got to spend the next twenty minutes pretending to be unconscious.” 

“Told you,” Natalie says softly under her breath. 

Henry looks at his watch. “Hey, sorry to ditch but I really need to get back to work, but I’m, like, around. Make sure to say bye before you go.” He pats Natalie affectionately on the cheek and slides out of the booth. 

“I need another drink,” Evan announces, pulling on Jared’s arm. “Come with me.” 

Jared pulls a face but it’s clearly for show, and they disappear into the crowd with Evan’s arm around his shoulder. 

“Uh, darling?” Connor says, turning to Jackson. “Would you mind?” 

“Oh, right,” Jackson says, standing up and leaning over the back of his chair. “Natalie, could I entertain you for a few minutes so they can chat?” 

“Oh,” Natalie breathes, shooting a glance at Zoe who shrugs placatingly. “Yeah sure. Actually maybe I’ll grab a small table?” 

“Yeah, I’ll come find you after,” Zoe says and Natalie’s hand brushes over hers as she slides out of the booth in a way that feels almost on purpose. 

It feels a bit weird to be sitting in such a large booth with just Connor, but he immediately uses the opportunity to sprawl, his legs bumping against hers under the table. 

“So, you and Natalie?” He says, pleased and smug. 

“I just think she’s cute,” Zoe says, hoping that being direct will kill this conversation. “Nothing’s happened, nothing’s happening, nothing will probably happen.” 

“You were in the bathroom a pretty long time.” 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “I was doing her hair.” 

“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?” 

“Fuck you, you went to the bathroom immediately with Jackson when we got here and you don’t hear me accusing you of having a tryst.” 

Connor tilts his head, his hair spilling over his shoulder. “I mean, we did make out a bit.” 

“Thanks. Didn’t ask.” Zoe pokes at the icy slush at the bottom of her drink with her straw. As much as what she and Connor have now is leagues better than those terrifying few years when he was tearing himself apart and not caring if he tore her to pieces in the process, as much as she’s so proud of him for all the work he’s put into his recovery — how much he’s tried to make things up to her and understood when he couldn’t — sometimes she wishes that their new shiny actually functional relationship hadn’t come with so much fucking nosiness. 

He’s still staring at her, the thought dancing clearly in the forefront of his mind. 

“Whatever you’re going to say,” Zoe says. “Can you just say it and get it over with?” 

Connor looks at her with a level of gentleness that startles her, sliding his hands across the table but not quite touching hers. “Is this because of Evan?” 

“Is _what_ because of Evan?” Zoe’s eyes narrow, a cold jolt of adrenaline settling in her chest. 

“Zo, c’mon,” Connor says. “Natalie is pretty clearly into you and maybe if you’re not seeing it it’s because there’s something in your way. And I just really hope that it’s not _Evan Hansen_.” 

“He’s _your_ pretend best friend.” 

“Hey, we’re like actual real friends now,” Connor says. “Doesn’t mean I think you should want to date him.” 

“Well, I don’t, so…” Zoe trails off, still unsure how to put whatever the fuck she feels about Evan into a concrete emotional category, much less words. 

“Okay,” Connor says, too nonchalant. “I think Natalie seems really great though, for the record.”

“Well thanks for your approval of a girl I met literally 12 hours ago,” Zoe snaps. 

“You’re welcome,” Connor says smugly, and then finishes the last of his ridiculous drink, plunks out one of the little paper umbrellas and tucks it behind his ear. “Alright, you’re dismissed.” 

“Oh,” Zoe says. “I thought you might wanna, like, talk about stuff more? Cause we didn’t really get a chance to earlier with everyone in the hotel room.” 

Connor stares at her, and Jesus is that pity in his eyes? Fuck. “Nevermind, you clearly don’t want to, it’s fine-”

“—Hey, we can talk,” he says, reaching for her when she stands. “C’mon, I’ll tell you all about the new studio drama.” 

“Fine,” Zoe says, sitting back down. “But only because I love dance mom drama.” 

“It’s good too, I promise.” 

“Better than that time you got the petition demanding that the studio be rearranged in accordance with the principles of feng shui?” 

“Maybe not quite that good,” Connor admits. “But we had our monthly meeting on Tuesday with all the board members and the instructors, and the big thing on the agenda was deciding on a theme for spring recital. And there are these three moms who are just, like, cartoonishly obnoxious, and they just keep suggesting more and more just, like, fucked up conceptual ideas for the theme.” 

“Whatever happened to just having your theme be, like, weather or Disney or something?” Zoe says. 

“Who fucking knows,” Connor says. “I just better not have to choreograph a tap routine about spiritual enlightenment or eating organic.” 

“I don’t know, that could be cute — all the kids dressed up like vegetables or something,” Zoe fiddles with her empty glass. She really wishes she’d asked Henry what it was called, cause she really wants another one. 

“This one mom, Jennifer, god I fucking cannot stand her. She’s one of those, like, diet homophobes who never say anything _quite_ offensive enough that you can call them out. And her kids all have,” he makes air quotes, “‘Unique’ spellings of their names. So her daughters, who actually are pretty good kids, are called ‘Violet’ and ‘Elizabeth.’ Totally nice fine names, but here’s how she spells them.” 

He pulls a stray napkin towards himself and produces a pen out of thin air, writing in his big blocky handwriting, _ALYZZIBETH_ and _VYOLETE_. 

“Oh, those poor kids,” Zoe says. “See, this is what happens when the girls who went through that phase of trying to make the short forms of their names as different as possible in middle school grow up and have children.” 

“You’re saying that like you didn’t spend an entire year trying to get everyone to put umlauts over the E.” 

“Wow, I need to go suddenly right now immediately,” Zoe says and Connor laughs, the little paper umbrella tipping forward but not quite coming loose. 

“Alright, alright, good talk,” he says. 

“Yes, yes, good talk, good hustle,” Zoe says in a passable imitation of their old soccer coach, the two of them shaking hands with mock enthusiasm over the table, something they used to find unexplainably funny when they were in grade school. 

“And bring me back my boyfriend!” He calls after her. 

Zoe weaves her way through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Natalie. She spots Jared and Evan over by the bar, looking ten kinds of couple-y and about thirty seconds from making out, so she ducks her head down and walks quickly by them without saying hi. 

“Zoe!” Someone calls from above, and Zoe looks up incredulously to see Natalie waving at her from the second floor she didn’t even realize existed. It takes her an embarrassingly long time to find the stairs in the dark bar and she takes them two at a time to try and cover her tracks. 

Natalie’s snagged a table at the edge of the second floor area where it looks over the bar, and she grins from around Jackson when she sees her. 

“Hey,” Zoe says, coming over to linger beside Jackson. “Connor asked me to please retrieve you. And by asked I mean yelled, and he will probably start yelling if you don’t return in a timely manner.” 

“Ahhh to be in love,” Jackson says with an eyeroll. “Okay, you guys have fun from your supervillain perch.” 

“We will!” Natalie says, and pulls out the high bar stool-chair combo for Zoe with her foot.

“What’s up?” 

“Hmmm, not much,” Natalie says, fiddling with the end of her braid. “We were just chatting about this and that. He showed me a bunch of pictures of his brother’s trip to New Mexico.” 

“Oh yeah, Ivan? He’s the best, we’ve bonded over our younger bi sibling status,” Zoe says, and then shakes her head. “Sorry, I’m sure the last thing you wanna hear is more about my brother’s boyfriend’s brother.” 

“Hmm, don’t forget your brother’s boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend,” Natalie says teasingly, and gives Zoe a shrug when she looks at her quizzically. “He showed me his Twitter. That boy sure hates Brooklyn.” 

Zoe hums in agreement, trying to figure out how she can want to ask Natalie so much about her thoughts on everything, yet all they seem to talk about is men. She casts a sidelong glance to the novel Natalie has resting beside her glass, which is not, as she’d presumed earlier, the copy of _Anna Karenina_ which she’d had on her bedside table. 

“What’re you reading?” She asks, trying to make out the title upside down and failing spectacularly. 

“Oh, just some, you know, fluff reading,” Natalie says dismissively, shoving the novel to the corner of the table, and Zoe hates that, she hates it because she recognizes so well that shame-tinged conversation ending tone. 

“You know,” she tries carefully, treading lightly, “my most-read book is literally _Angels and Demons_.” 

“Like, _The Da Vinci Code_ book?” Natalie tilts her head. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.” 

“Dan Brown is a hack but I love nonsense, sooooo,” Zoe shrugs. “C’mon, I told you my deep dark literary secret.” 

Natalie huffs a big sigh but it’s clearly for show, her smile breaking just slightly too early as she passes her book over. It’s got a pretty generic romance cover with two white people almost kissing in front of Big Ben, the spine is cracked in a few places and it’s clearly been well loved. Zoe flips it over, trying to match this bizarrely heteronormative artifact to the mental map she’s started to construct of Natalie. 

She skims the summary on the back, something about actors in a West End play pretending to date for publicity and to avoid an awkward situation with an ex. Zoe doesn’t even have to finish the summary to put together how the book ends, but that’s sort of the charm of it anyways. 

“You know, the devaluing of romance as a genre is mostly just misogyny,” Natalie says defensively after a long moment of silence. “I mean, it's fun and self-indulgent and not particularly deep, but so are comics, and so is a lot of sci-fi and fantasy. And why do we as a society think that's so bad anyway? And, and! ….I am now seeing that you are not judging me or disagreeing on any of these points.” 

Zoe nods at her, wide-eyed, and Natalie seems to wilt a little. “Sorry, it’s not you, I just am sick of dudes wanting to lecture me about what else I should be reading. Like we all didn’t have the same fucking AP English reading list.” 

“No, no, it’s cool,” _I like listening to you talk_ , Zoe thinks. 

“I like hearing about it,” Zoe says and Natalie smiles at her all soft and genuine. 

“Anyways, sorry, I’ll step off my soapbox. I just, I’m in this Russian lit class right now and I really like it but sometimes I just want to read something where winter is just an excuse to write about Christmas and not an extended metaphor about the human condition.” 

Natalie taps her fingers on the edge of the table rapidly, a tick not uncommon to the pianists Zoe has known, but it’s more charming now than she can ever recall it being before.

It seems almost more serendipitous that they’ve never met before, given how clique-y the music program is. Even though Zoe’s not a music major, her presence in the Jazz Combo means she gets invited to all the parties and knows a good three quarters of the departmental gossip. Not to mention who is sleeping with whom, yet she can’t even recall Natalie’s name coming up. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Natalie asks, and shit she must have zoned out a little too long there, tries to grasp for the last threads of conversation but they’re a little too far away and Zoe resigns herself to admitting the truth. 

“Oh, I was just thinking it’s sort of weird that we’ve never met before given that the department is a little, uh,” 

“Incestuous?” 

“I wasn’t going to say that, but since you put it on the table—” 

“Has Peter Kingston propositioned you yet?” Natalie says, leaning forward slightly. Peter Kingston is a junior who’s determined to sleep his way through as many varieties of musicians as possible. Zoe’s never actually met the guy, but he’d spent a few fruitless months texting her roommate Katherine when he found out she played the accordion.

Zoe scoffs. “Yeah, lucky for me everyone and their ex-boyfriend plays guitar so he crossed that off his list pretty early.”

“Yeah, lots of pianists,” Natalie says. “Which honestly, thank god. That was one rite of passage I’m good to skip out on.” She hums thoughtfully and takes another sip of her ginger ale. “I bet you could do an interesting anthropological study on all the shit that goes down in the department.” 

“Oh definitely,” Zoe says, her foot tapping excitedly on the foot rest. “Especially because my area of interest is actually, like, cults and, like uh, pseudoreligions.” 

“You mean like Scientology and stuff?” 

“Yeah, or like, _The Secret_.” 

Natalie frowns. “Isn’t that the thing with the vision boards? Does that really count?” 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Zoe says. “My mom went super deep on that shit when I was like 13, and then she went hard on Whole 30, which was honestly worse if a bit less cultish.” 

“What's Whole 30?”

“It's like an intense elimination diet you do for 30 days and if you mess up you have to start over at day one. We did it as a family and it took us almost six months because your body sure would like to eat wheat or dairy or sugar. Especially when you're going through puberty.”

“Yiiiiikes,” Natalie says.

“It sucked pretty hard, but that's why I got really interested in, like, how do you get these fad diets or juice cleanse pyramid schemes off the ground, you know? How do you convince people to do these things and how does it differ from what we'd traditionally think of as a cult, if at all.” She shakes her head. “Sorry that got a little, uh, thesis pitch-y. I just think it's really fascinating.”

Natalie tips her head all the way to one side, braid falling over her shoulder, and smiles at her like she knows something Zoe doesn't.

“What?” Zoe says, itchy under the intensity of how Natalie's looking at her.

“You're just very...” Natalie says, “I don't know. You're just so — You really went into anthropology because your mom went on a weird diet!?”

“Look, you need to google this shit cause it's actually really intense—”

“—No I believe you, I just, I think that's the best thing I've ever heard.”

Zoe's heart _pounds_ in her chest, and Natalie's looking at her like she hung the moon and suddenly it's like she's 17 all over again and Evan is looking at her like she put the stars in the sky and—

“I need a drink,” Zoe blurts, and feels the moment shatter to shards at her feet as she stands. “I'll be— I'll be right back, sorry.”

She takes the stairs at a clip, fast enough she knows she's not going to be able to catch herself if she falls. She weaves her way through groups of people lingering around tables, reaching out for the damp glossy surface of the bar like she's on middle school swim team again, stretching her arm for the wall.

“Hey!” Henry says, spotting her. “What can I get you?”

“Can I just get another one of those blue things? The slushie thing?” Zoe says, too scattered to put the mental effort into ordering anything else.

“A Blue Hawaiian? Yeah, no problem,” Henry says, pulling out a glass from behind the bar and getting to work.

Zoe leans tiredly on the bar, not even caring that she's putting her elbow in a puddle of something. She has no clue what's wrong with her. She likes Natalie, she wants to touch her hair and listen to her talk about misogyny in genre fiction and share secret little glances when the dudes around them are being just a little too much. So why does the thought of Natalie maybe liking her back send her fleeing like a heroine in a gothic novel?

She lets out a long shaky breath. God, the worst part is she's probably just making it up in her head that Natalie looking at her is anything more than Natalie looking at her. Why does she think Natalie would even like her?

“So,” Henry says, setting down her drink. “I think Natalie likes you.”

“Oh fuck,” Zoe says before she can stop herself. “Wait no, sorry, not like, _fuck_ fuck, just like. You know. Fuck.”

“I do not know,” Henry says, but he's smiling at her.

“Um, you know the bit in the Princess Diaries where Mia tells her grandmother to shut up but she means, like, 'that's crazy!' I meant that, but with fuck.”

She really wishes Henry would say something but he just looks at her, bemused, sticking a little plastic sword speared through a piece of pineapple on the rim of her glass.

“Emotions are hard,” Zoe says sternly, taking her drink.

“Amen to that,” Henry says wiping off the bar.“Oh hey, no, on the house,” he says with a wave of his hands when Zoe reaches for her wallet.

“Is this some sort of bribe to get me to date your ex?” Zoe says, mostly kidding.

“Depends, is it working?” Henry says, with that easy charm Zoe wishes more than anything she could grasp. “Look, I'm not trying to make you feel weird or anything, and like, Natalie hasn't actually _told_ me anything, but I can usually tell these sorts of things with her, and I just thought I'd let you know in case that's a direction you'd want to take it.”

Zoe takes a long sip of her drink. “I'm sort of a walking human disaster today so maybe ask me again tomorrow.”

“Ha, fair,” Henry says. “Though I am also sort of a walking human disaster so maybe that's Natalie's type.”

Zoe's about to protest that they're not even remotely the same kind of disaster but suddenly Evan is very, very in her personal space and on the topic of walking human disasters—

“Zoe!” Evan slurs, clearly a few more jagerbombs into the evening. “Hey Zoe.”

“Oh hello, very drunk Evan,” Zoe says, putting out an arm to steady him, an overwhelming sense of deja vu from dinner, but Evan seems way less tilty and a lot more chatty.

“Zoe,” Evan says again, and reaches out to touch her hair. “Zoe, I think you're so fucking great. Not like, you know, not like sex great— not that you're not great at sex because you are. Probably. I wouldn't know. Ha. But just that you're really, really great. I'm so glad you're here.”

“Oh, um, okay,” she says, and without warning he slumps forward into her arms, like a combination hug and trust fall. Zoe's worried for a second how she's going to get him out of her arms with a drink in hand, but he suddenly rocks backwards on his heels and is fully upright again.

“It's 3 am,” he says urgently. “We should go, don't you think?”

Zoe checks her watch. It is in fact a little after three and, given that she has to be up at 8:30, that sounds like a pretty good idea. “Yeah, just let me finish my drink and then we can go.”

Evan nods at her, dark wisps of hair falling into his eyes and it's funny she'd forgotten how much she used to like that. And it's cute now, sure, but there's something so reassuring in how Evan's hair can fall into his eyes and she can know how cute it is and not feel a thing about it. The whole thing weirdly soothes the panic in her chest from earlier.

Now if only they could have a conversation this pleasant when he's sober. But hey, baby steps.

“Evan, I'm going to go back upstairs, where's Jared?”

“Jared!” Evan chirps excitedly. “I love him.”

“I know,” Zoe says, muffling a laugh. “We should go find him.”

She gives Evan a polite but firm shove into the crowd, giving Henry a fluttery finger wave over her shoulder.

“I love Jared,” Evan says again. “I'm going to make out with him! That's allowed cause we're both okay with it. Wait, that's not— you know what I mean. I'm going to put my tongue in his mouth but I can cause we're dating.”

“Thank you for that image. I'm so glad I know that,” Zoe deadpans, knowing all of this will be lost on Evan.

Jared is over back at their booth from earlier, standing but leaning on the table, chatting animatedly to Connor who is practically lying in Jackson's lap.

“Hey,” he says, catching sight of Evan. “Uh, where's my drink?”

“Oh!” Evan says cheerfully, and shakes his head. “I saw Zoe and I just forgot!”

“Oh my god you are cute as a freaking button. I love jagerbomb Evan,” Jared says, and Evan basically trust falls into his arms, and yeah, he was not kidding about putting his tongue in Jared's mouth, jesus christ.

“I'm gonna head back upstairs,” she says to Connor, gesturing vaguely upwards. “But we should probably go in, like, twenty?”

“Sounds good,” he says and Zoe side steps around Jared and Evan on her way back upstairs, glad to have an excuse to leave before they escalate to ass grabbing like some horny teeangers at prom. Or rather like themselves at prom, if the rumours she heard from Sabrina Patel were true (and knowing Jared and Evan they probably were). 

Natalie’s on her phone when Zoe returns, hoping that the bounce in her step thanks to what Henry said at the bar will make up a little bit for her fleeing in terror only ten minutes before. 

“Whatcha looking at?” Zoe says, trying to be ten times more chill. The drink is admittedly helping a lot. It’s nice to have something to do with her hands. Connor once told her that she never seems to organically know what to do with her hands and comes off as stiff and robotic. She’d never really noticed it before he mentioned it, but it’d been on her mind ever since and she hates feeling herself become hyperaware of the problem. 

“I googled Whole 30,” Natalie says. “Holy shit you were not kidding, this is some scary stuff.”

She reads aloud from her screen, ‘This is not hard. Don’t you dare tell us this is hard. Beating cancer is hard. Birthing a baby is hard. Losing a parent is hard. Drinking your coffee black. Is. Not. Hard.’ Um, what the fuck? You’re right, this is totally a cult.” 

“Yeah, I know. Trust me, I _know_ ,” Zoe says, giving a shudder that might be a little exaggerated but isn’t faked either. “My mom used to have a sign that said that hanging up in our kitchen.” 

“Scary.” 

“I just wanna clarify that, like, my mom is great and I love her she just, uh, would get really bored and go off on these flights of fancy around whatever the hot new suburban bored mom thing was,” Zoe says. “She hasn’t done anything really bonkers in a few years. Not since she got divorced. Mostly she’s just really into Project Life now.” 

Natalie frowns and Zoe rushes in to explain. “It’s like a scrapbooking thing. I know it sounds kind of scary from the name out of context but it’s just, like, little pockets you put photos in. I’m sort of scared this is going to spiral into a photography phase and she’ll start using the hashtag momtog unironically, but I guess it’s better than, you know, food cults.” 

“Hmmm, or multilevel marketing schemes.” 

“She did thankfully never become a Scentsy mom, but it was a close call,” Zoe says and then, realizing she is talking about her family _again,_ shakes her head angrily. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’ll shut up about my family now.” 

“I really don’t mind.” 

“No I know, it’s just, I’m here with you and I want to be talking about things that interest youand not whatever my brother or my mom is doing.” 

“Well, I mean, it’s interesting to me,” Natalie says, almost shyly. She opens her mouth to continue but then shuts it again, a look of concentration on her face. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to say this because I don’t want it to come out wrong.” 

“O- _kay_ ,” Zoe says hesitantly. 

“Uh, so my family life, like, it’s _fine_ and it’s especially fine right now but there’s a lot of mental health stuff that I don’t need to get into, but basically, I didn’t ever have, you know, picket fences and all that shit. And I guess it’s sort of nice to know that other people have weird family stuff too?” Natalie gestures vaguely. “I feel like that probably didn’t come out right.” 

“No I get it,” Zoe says, because god does she ever. “It’s like we assume everyone had some kind of sitcom family until proven otherwise so it’s nice to know that’s not actually the norm.” 

“Yeah,” Natalie says. “Yes, oh my god, how did you say what I meant better than I did?” She laughs, clearly relieved. “Honestly, it’s just nice to know you’re not as intimidating as I thought you were going to be.” 

“Wait, what?” Zoe says. “You thought I was going to be intimidating?” 

It’s not like this is the first time she’s ever heard someone tell her that she’s intimidated them, but her heart sinks thinking that Natalie of all people carried around that version of Zoe. She must have heard something from Becca when she was living with Isaac this last year. Or maybe her Aunt Janice, who’s never really liked Zoe that much, said something at one of the wedding events Zoe couldn’t get to while she was back home during winter break. 

She braces herself for Natalie to scoff, be one more person to say _Yeah I thought you were a stuck-up bitch but I guess you’re fine_ , but instead Natalie just looks...embarrassed?

“Um, you know how earlier you said it was sort of weird that we’d never met before since you’re in jazz combo and I’m in the music department and everyone knows everyone? That isn’t, um, strictly true,” Natalie says sheepishly. 

“What?” Zoe says, wracking her mind for when she and Natalie could have possibly met, terrified for a moment that the most likely possibility is that they’d bumped into each other at some party where Zoe’d had just enough to drink to not remember. 

(The romantic part of her brain argues that even if she’d been drunk there’s no way she wouldn’t have remembered Natalie, but the rest of her isn’t so sure.)

Natalie taps her fingers on the table again. “Uh, so I auditioned for orchestra at the beginning of the year. Which I knew was a total long shot going in, because they only take one pianist and there’s so many of us, but I thought hey, why not give it a shot right? Even if I don’t get in, it’s always good for the experience.” 

Zoe blinks, unsure of what exactly this has to do with her intimidating Natalie, but she’s scared if she says anything she’ll spook her and never get her answers. 

“Right anyways, sorry,” Natalie says, fiddling with her braid again. “The point is I didn’t get in, obviously, but my academic advisor is one of the people on the audition panel, Dr. Khatri? Do you know her?” Zoe shakes her head, she might know her but the name doesn’t ring a bell in the middle of this gay bar at 3:24 am. 

“Well she apparently knows you, I guess because after my audition she called me in for a meeting and I guess— well not ‘I guess,’ I _know_ I tend to get a very, um, intense expression when I’m playing. Which tends to knock me down for performance ensembles even if I’m higher on the list from a technical standpoint.” 

Natalie pauses for a long moment, clearly trying to work through how she wants to approach this next part. Zoe’s not sure what exactly it is, maybe whatever’s in these very blue drinks Henry has been making her, but despite her terror that whatever Natalie’s going to say next will shatter her hopes into a thousand bitter shards, something compels her to reach over and rest her hand over Natalie’s where it rests on the table. 

Natalie inhales sharply and everything around them goes into soft focus. “I, uh, sorry, I totally lost my train of thought,” she says, in a voice that sounds about as weak in the knees as Zoe feels. 

“That’s okay,” Zoe says, in a voice barely above a whisper and she thinks her heart is going to stop as Natalie ever so slowly turns her hand under hers so they meet palm to palm, fingers closing gently around Zoe’s hand, Natalie’s thumb resting just below her pinky. 

It would have been less dangerous to just hand Natalie her beating heart, but Zoe’s always been the type to make the same mistake twice. 

“You should keep going,” Zoe says, leaning forward on her elbow. 

“Yeah,” Natalie says, more an exhale than a word. Her face is flushed and the fact that her red cheeks can’t be written off by drinking settles in Zoe’s stomach like a pebble tossed into a well. Small, but sending ripples through her entire body. 

Natalie is going to kiss her. 

She knows it without needing to think about it, like when she gets so lost in the music and her fingers dance and she’s in the moment and a million miles away all at once. 

Natalie is going to kiss her. 

And then. 

“Hey lovebirds! Where’s my gumdrop!?” 

And then Jared Kleinman happens. 

The weird thing is neither of them move, their hands still clasped together between them, Zoe leaning forward ever so slightly, but the moment is dead. Zoe can’t stop thinking about the time she found a dead bird in her backyard, a bad omen, all those tiny hollow bones. 

Jared, for all his horrific timing, at least has the good sense to spot their clasped hands on the table and look guilty about it. 

“Uhhh,” He says, and if he apologizes Zoe is going to get up out of this stool-chair hybrid and slap him, but he just shakes his head and continues. “Where’s Evan?” 

“He was with you last time I saw him.” 

Jared frowns. “He didn’t come upstairs?” 

“No,” Zoe says slowly. “Did he say he was going to?” 

“Yeah,” he says, and then shakes his head. “I don’t know, maybe I misunderstood? I’ll go check around downstairs, but, uh, if you see him tell him we’re leaving in five.” 

He retreats quickly, checking his phone as he goes, and Zoe watches his retreating back until Natalie shifts, pulling her hand out from under Zoe’s. She stretches and rests her hands on top of her head for a moment. “Guess we should probably pack up?” 

“Yeah,” Zoe confirms, trying hard to tamper down her annoyance with Jared and she tosses back the rest of her half melted drink. 

Natalie tucks her little romance novel back into her bag and shares a small, secret smile with Zoe when she notices her noticing. “I’m gonna say goodbye real quick to Henry,” she says, tucking her clutch under her arm. 

Zoe nods. “Okay, do you want to meet over by the booth then?” 

“You got it, pontiac,” Natalie says, and then winces at herself. “I don’t know why I said that, oh my god. I’m just gonna, I’m just gonna, be right back.” She turns on her heel and weaves her way through the tables towards the stairs.

Zoe watches her go, hovering at the table for a long second even though she has nothing to gather up. 

She finds Jared easily enough with Connor and Jackson back at the original booth they were at. There’s something….off, though. Jared has his phone to his ear and Connor and Jackson look serious, murmuring between themselves as she approaches. 

“What’s going on?” Zoe says hesitantly, grabbing her coat off the hook beside the booth. 

“We can’t find Evan,” Connor says. “He told Jared he was coming to find you or something, but he’s not with you, obviously, and he’s not anywhere downstairs.” 

“Did you check the bathroom?” 

Jackson nods. “Yeah, I just did, he’s not there.” 

“Fuck,” Jared says. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.” 

“He still not picking up?” Connor asks. 

“No. Shit.” Jared runs a hand through his hair and Zoe can’t tell if she’s imagining it or not when she sees his chin quiver. He’s not that drunk, definitely not nearly as drunk as Evan, but he’s a far ways from sober and she knew first hand even before Henry’s canoe story that he had a tendency to cry while drunk. 

(High school party, long story.) 

Natalie emerges at her side. “What’s going on?” 

“We’ve lost Evan,” Zoe says. 

Natalie frowns. “Did someone check the bathroom?” 

“ _Yes_ we already did!” Jared snaps, and then after a long tense pause lets out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Natalie. I just—” 

“You’re drunk, you’re worried, it’s okay,” Natalie says, with such softness and generosity that Zoe wants to...well, she’s not sure exactly _what_ but she wants to something. 

Jared takes a long deep breath. “I’m gonna, uh, I’m gonna go check outside again.” 

“Hey, I’ll come with,” Jackson says, putting a hand on Jared’s shoulder and maneuvering them through the crowd. 

“He couldn’t have left, he doesn’t have a car,” Zoe says once they’re out of earshot.

“His coat’s gone,” Connor says. 

“What? No. Are you sure?” Zoe starts digging through the mound of outerwear on the hook beside their booth. There’s one coat she knows for sure is Connor’s, the other is Natalie’s, Jared and Jackson were both already wearing theirs, the only thing she manages to scrounge up that she thinks might be Evan’s is a handknit Hufflepuff scarf. 

“Isn’t this his?”

Connor scoffs. “Evan is _not_ a Hufflepuff.” 

“Wow, thank you Connor, very helpful,” she snaps back, hanging the scarf back on the hook. 

“Maybe he called a cab?” Natalie suggests. 

Connor shrugs. “I mean, _maybe_ , like sure theoretically absolutely he could have. But it seems weird that he would tell Jared that he was going to get Zoe and then just vanish, especially since you didn’t see him at all.” 

“And you’re sure that’s what he said?” 

“Uh, yeah Zoe, I’m pretty fucking sure he was literally standing right in front of me.” 

“Don’t get all fucking moody with me, I’m just trying to help,” Zoe snaps back, patience wearing thin. Connor huffs and sits down without any added complaints but Zoe feels her heart drop into the soles of her feet when she catches the uncomfortable way Natalie is holding herself. It hits too close to home, the way she used to curl into herself, wishing she could be as invisible as she felt when Connor and her dad were screaming at each other over the table. 

Connor catches her eye first, rubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you it’s just— the drive was really long and I had work before and I’m fucking exhausted.” 

“It’s a lot,” Zoe concedes. “Just the whole day and Evan getting drunk and then getting handsy and then disappearing and then Jared crying. It’s a _lot_ of a lot.” 

“Look, you and Natalie may as well go back to the hotel,” Connor says. “We can figure this out on our own. You guys have to be up in like, shit, five hours.” 

“Are you sure?” Zoe says, heeding a sidelong glance at Natalie. It seems unfair to make her stick around for someone she’s not even friends with, but Zoe feels culpable in this, especially since Evan was allegedly looking for her before he disappeared. 

Jared and Jackson reemerge, Jared’s eyes red and watery but his expression oddly blank. Even so, he looks about fifteen seconds from a full-scale breakdown. Connor’s already pulling his phone out, presumably trying to call Evan yet again. 

“I just don’t understand where he would have _gone_ ,” Jared says in a way that implies he’s already said it a dozen times before. “He told me he was ‘going with Zoe’ and then he put on his coat and didn’t go find Zoe and just _left_!?” He scrubs at his face. “God. Fuck.” 

“I mean it’s not like there’s a lot open at 3:30 am,” Jackson says gently, squeezing Jared’s shoulder. “I think at this point it’s most likely he just decided to go back to the hotel.” 

“Without telling me?” He sounds more hurt than anything. 

“People do weird shit when they’re drunk,” Connor says sympathetically. “I think Jackson’s right, I think we should go check back at the hotel.” 

“I can’t just _leave_ ,” Jared protests, voice cracking. 

“Zoe and I could stay here,” Natalie suggests, god bless her. “Then you guys can go back to the hotel and check there. We’ll do another circle check and let Henry know we’re looking for him so he can call us if he reemerges.” 

Jared lets out a long shaky breath. “Yeah. Fine. That’s fine.” 

“Good plan,” Jackson says, giving Jared’s shoulder another squeeze. 

Connor grabs his jacket and pulls it on, grabbing the Hufflepuff scarf and looping it around Jared’s shoulders. “Okay, text me if you guys find anything.” 

“Will do,” Zoe says, giving them an awkward wave off. Connor and Jared get along okay, and Jackson’s the kind of easygoing person who gets along with almost everyone, but she doesn’t envy their position trying to keep a frantic drunk weepy Jared calm. 

She could slap Evan, honestly. All day he’s been tripping her up, like the perpetuatal rucked-up carpet of her social life. Zoe lets herself indulge in a big melodramatic sighing breath, collapsing back into the booth. 

Natalie touches her on the shoulder, high up, right near where it meets her neck, and Zoe shivers involuntarily. “Why don’t you stay here? I can go do a circle check and talk to Henry.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah,” Natalie says. “I got you on this one.” 

“Thank you,” Zoe says, hoping the gratitude bleeding through her voice is enough. “Not just for this, just for being so amazing and understanding about everything. I’d love to say my life is not normally this messy, and I guess it arguably isn’t, but it’s never really tidy either.” 

Natalie touches her again on that same spot, the juncture between her shoulder and neck, and somehow it’s even more intimate than when they were holding hands. “That’s okay, I think tidiness is a very overrated quality anyways.” 

Before Zoe can start to overthink if this is an invitation for something, Natalie is taking a step back and turning on her heel, off to go help clean up a mess she had no hand in making. 

The vibe of the bar is starting to wind down a bit — it’s still a Friday night and the buzz of conversation is still as strong as ever — but there’s a syrupy quality to it now. Like being underwater, or trapped in a dream where you can never move quite fast enough. Zoe shakes her limbs, trying to wake herself up, and pulls out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. 

Despite it being Friday, she hasn’t gotten many notifications since they’ve been out. There’s one text from her dad inquiring about whether she wants to get brunch next week and a few snapchats from Alana Beck replying to Connor’s original message, Alana pressed up close in the frame with her girlfriend, Sophie, the two of them with matching cat ears — maybe they’re fox ears? — captioned ‘Hope you’re having fun!’ 

Zoe huffs out a tired laugh. Fun isn’t exactly how she’d put it, but tonight has at the very least been eventful. 

She pulls open Facebook messenger to send Alana a quick note, not feeling up to having to try and take a picture for Snapchat. Before she can type Alana’s name into the search bar, however, she’s greeted with Evan at the top of her recent messages, the series of texts he’d sent her earlier at the hotel still left unopened. 

Zoe’s thumb hovers over it, not sure if reading a string of apologies from Evan right now will really be productive, but somehow the physical lack of Evan makes the task a lot less daunting. She taps the conversation. 

_17 unread messages_. 

Zoe scrolls back through the messages, heart hammering as the pieces start to fall into place. She’s absorbed enough that she doesn’t hear Natalie approach until she’s touching her lightly on the arm, and Zoe practically jumps out of her skin. 

“Sorry!” Natalie chirps, sliding into the booth across from her. “So, did another look around, still nothing. But I talked to Henry and he said he’d keep an eye out and call me if he comes back or re-materializes or whatever. So do you want to head back to the hotel now?” 

When she says nothing, Natalie smiles at her with just the thinnest edge of concern. “Zoe?” 

Zoe blinks once, her phone sitting useless and infinitely valuable in her hand. “I know where Evan is.” 

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call Jared?” Natalie asks for the third or fourth time about fifteen minutes later, her eyes focused on the road as she navigates from the directions Zoe had pulled up on Google maps. 

Zoe nods, and then, realizing that Natalie probably missed that since her eyes are on the road, says aloud, “I don’t want to call until I know for sure he’s there. I mean, I’m about 95% sure he is, but…”

Natalie nods. “Don’t want to jump the gun in his current emotional state.” 

Zoe had texted Connor as they’d left the bar to check in, just to double check that Evan hadn’t been at the hotel after all before they set off on what was essentially a hunch. He’d replied saying that not only had they not found Evan, but that Jared had dissolved in a full-tilt drunk crying jag and that they were going to go get food in the hopes of calming him down a bit. 

“Turn here,” Zoe says, checking the directions on her phone again. “It’s just up here on the left.” 

“Yeah, I see it,” Natalie says, easing the car over to the curb, which isn’t surprising given that it’s the only thing on the block open this late aside from a bar on the corner and a Laundromat across the street. Not to mention the line of people waiting to get in. 

“You want me to circle?” Natalie says. 

Zoe gives the line a look over. “Yeah, if I’m taking a long time feel free to go park, though.”

Natalie nods seriously, like an agent in an action movie. 

“Hey,” Zoe says, reaching out to touch her wrist gently. “Thank you so much for doing this, thank you for coming with me.” 

“Of course.” 

Zoe shakes her head. “No, seriously, you have no obligation to literally any of this and it really means a lot that you’d help me track down my drunk ex-boyfriend at like, shit, 3:52 am.” 

“Well, he is my ex-boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend’s boyfriend. So he’s, like, my ex-boyfriend twice removed,” Natalie jokes. 

“Isn’t he also your cousin’s cousin?” 

“Oh, yeah, I guess that too.” 

The urge to kiss her settles over Zoe, but she takes a deep breath and opens the car door. “See you on the other side?” 

“I’ll be there,” Natalie says, and Zoe believes her. 

The atmosphere from the crowd on the sidewalk is so much more like people waiting to get into a club than Chicago’s only late-night bakery (this claim painted in bold white and turquoise on the window). Her boots crunch in the barest layer of snow by the curb, and she strides towards the front door. 

“Hey! No cutting!” A girl snaps at her, but Zoe ignores her, striding up to an apron-clad employee managing the door. 

“Hey, sorry, I’m not cutting or anything, I’m trying to find my friend? Dark hair, tall-ish, very drunk,” She pulls up a photo on her phone and holds it out to the girl, who is far more peppy than anyone has the right to be this early in the morning. 

“Oh! Yes!” She chirps. “I’m pretty sure he’s still inside.” 

“Can I?” Zoe gestures vaguely ‘inside,’ “I’m not even getting anything, I’m just on retrieval duty.” 

The girl bites her lip. “Um, well, I’m not really _supposed_ to—” 

“—I promise I will be in and out in thirty seconds,” Zoe says. “Please?” 

The girl sighs and unclips a literal velvet rope. “Okay fine, but be quick.” 

“Thank you!” Zoe says, stepping in amidst the complaints of the people in line.

The bakery is bigger on the inside than it looks outside, and she starts to panic a little when her preliminary scan of the crowd yields no Evan Hansen. 

“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath. “Fuck, fuck.” 

She’d been so sure he would be here. It made perfect sense, and her stomach drops with the realization that Evan might actually be somewhere else, drunk and probably lost and given his cellular silence, probably with a dead phone, and—

“Zoe?” Someone says behind her, and jesus christ she’s never been happier to have Evan Hansen sneak up on her like some weird gangly cat. 

“Jesus Christ,” She says, whirling on her heel to face him, looking less tipsy and more guilty, a brown paper bag clutched in his hand. 

“Hey, um, quick question?” She snaps. “What the _fuck,_ Evan?” 

“Uh,” Evan says, holding out the bag. “Churros?” 

“Oh my god,” Zoe says, grabbing him around the arm and hauling him out of the bakery, giving a thankful little glance to the girl at the door as she goes, not letting go until they’re at the end of the block. 

“Ow,” Evan says, rubbing his arm. “You’re really strong.” 

Zoe’s already pulling up Connor in her messages, firing off a quick _I have him_ and copy-pasting the address of the bakery into a text. 

_thank god_ , Connor fires back almost immediately. _jared just stress inhaled half a pepperoni pizza_

_Um, doesn’t he keep kosher?_

_yeah but hes having a rough night im sure god will be cool about it_

“Who’re you texting?” Evan says, craning to look over at her screen. 

“Connor,” Zoe says flatly. “When your very drunk friend disappears, people tend to worry.”

Evan wilts, and the sharp edge of smugness is less satisfying than she thought it would be. “Look, I’m not here to yell at you, especially because you are _very_ drunk right now, but seriously, what the fuck was that?” 

“I—” Evan starts, waving his free hand uselessly. “I— texts? I texted you.” 

“Very vaguely sending someone a text at 8 pm acknowledging the existence of a late-night bakery and then vaguely saying ‘let’s go’ is not an actual concrete invitation to go anywhere.” 

Evan frowns at her, eyebrows knitting together, but she cuts him off as he goes to open his mouth. “Ahhh, hey, who is the more sober one here right now? It wasn’t obvious.” 

Evan pouts. “I’m not _that_ drunk.” 

Zoe pats him on the arm. “Sure, Evan.” 

“I’m not!” 

“Mhmm, eat your churros,” Zoe says, eyes scanning for Natalie’s car, waving her over when she catches sight of the car circling the block. 

Zoe bounds over the small snowbank at the edge of the sidewalk, Natalie rolling down her windows as she pulls up. “Mission accomplished!” She says cheerfully, giving a little wave over Zoe’s shoulder at Evan, who lists slightly to the side and waves back, ever cheerful. 

“I texted Connor,” Zoe says. “So, uh, I have to wait for him anyways if you want to go back to the hotel.”

“You don’t want me to wait?” Natalie says, and fuck Zoe really wishes she hadn’t said ‘want,’ because she really really does want her to stay, but after everything Natalie’s put up with tonight she deserves to get to go back to the hotel and sleep the precious few hours they have until they need to be on peak wedding party form. 

So Zoe shrugs and fiddles with the hem of her coat. “I mean, it’s not worth both of us waiting in the cold. I can drive home with the boys, no problem.” 

Natalie’s lip quirks ever so slightly, but she just shrugs and says, “Okay, I’ll leave the light on for you.” 

Zoe’s cheeks warm and she hopes they’re already pink enough from the cold that it isn’t blatantly obvious, but when she turns back to Evan he’s looking at her wide-eyed. “Do you— I mean, uh, Natalie? Do you like her?” 

“Evan,” Zoe says, trying to keep her voice undefensive. “I am so not talking to you about this right now.” 

Evan grips his little paper bag close to his chest. “Oh, ’cause I’m your ex.” 

“No, because it’s like four in the morning and I’m exhausted and you’re drunk and we all have to be part of a wedding in the morning and whether or not I have feelings for Natalie is really the last thing on the agenda right now.” 

Evan tilts his head and nods sagely, mostly to himself. Zoe bounces on her toes, trying to get her blood flowing while they wait for Connor. It’s not that cold, but she’d chosen her cuter coat over her warmer one when they were getting ready to leave and is starting to regret it a bit. Evan’s listing to the side just slightly, becoming both more sober and more tired the longer they wait. 

“Zoe?” Evan says, in a voice carefully measured. “Uh, was Jared, um….upset when you saw him?” 

She exhales sharply through her nose. Ten minutes ago she’d probably have rubbed it in a little out of spite, but she’s feeling a lot more generous now. Or maybe it’s just the terrifying thought of having to deal with a guilt-stricken Evan Hansen, something she has done more than her fair share of in the last few years. 

“He was, uh,” Zoe starts, but doesn’t get any farther as Connor’s car pulls up ten feet away at the end of the block and Jared Kleinman comes bursting out of the passenger side. 

“Hey _asshole_!” He shouts, absolutely furious and gaining on them fast. Evan shrinks a little bit more into his scarf, and Zoe takes a half step out of the way of Jared’s warpath. 

She’s half expecting Jared to smack him, but he just comes to an abrupt halt a few feet away from Evan, his face red and his eyes furious behind his glasses. Jackson’s gotten out of the car and he’s lingering a little bit farther back and he makes nervous eye contact with her. Zoe doesn’t really think Jared and Evan are the type to come to blows, but you can never really tell, and Jared looks furious enough to surprise her. 

“ _Jare_ ,” Evan says, his face crumpling as he takes in a big shaky breath and that’s all it takes for Jared’s fury to melt, a sob painfully and unwillingly rung out of him. Evan makes a pained secret noise, like he’s just stepped on a nail but doesn’t want anyone to know. Jared’s arms come up around his neck and they stand there rocking back and forth on the sidewalk for a long minute. 

“I fucking hate you,” Jared says into the shoulder of Evan’s coat, all the venom in his words undercut by his slight sniffling. Evan just squeezes his eyes shut and kisses him on the temple. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his hands clasped on top of each other around Jared’s back, like he’s trying to hold himself up as much as he’s trying to hold Jared together. 

Jackson catches her eye again and Zoe knows they’re both thinking the same thing, torn between needing to get back and not wanting to interrupt the moment. 

It’s Connor who ultimately makes the choice, though, honking twice and causing them all to jump. “C’mon, you can cuddle at the hotel!” He shouts from the car, and Jackson gives her a fond exasperated look. 

“Very tactful, sweetheart,” Jackson calls to Connor as Jared and Evan break apart sheepishly. 

It takes them a stupidly long time to get settled in Connor’s car, the backseat not really big enough for three adults even with Jared pressed hard up against Evan’s side. Zoe watches the city pass out the window and tries to ignore the way that Evan murmuring sweetly into Jared’s hair makes envy coil in the pit of her stomach like a sleeping dragon. Tries to ignore how the only thought that gathers in her mind is how much she wishes Natalie were here. 

Connor drops her off in the parking garage and it takes all of her willpower to keep her eyes open in the elevator, the exhaustion hitting her all at once now that the Evan crisis has been resolved. It takes her three tries to get her keycard into the door, and she barely pulls her boots off before she’s crashing into her bed fully dressed. Natalie’s already sound asleep in her bed, and Zoe’s last thought before she’s dragged deep into unconsciousness is that Natalie really had left the light on for her. 

The morning is an exhausting blur of activity. She and Natalie barely speak as they try to pull themselves together enough to face Becca and the rest of the wedding party, bleary-eyed, and Zoe thanks her lucky stars she hadn’t drunk that much when she sees Evan, clearly hungover and miserable at the breakfast buffet. 

She doesn’t even have time to grab anything before she’s whisked off to get her hair done, her aunt Janice bemoaning the fact that she was the only bridesmaid with hair above her shoulders. Zoe doesn’t really care that she doesn’t match everyone else, and is just pleased that her hair takes about half the time to do so she can catch a quick catnap curled up in the desk chair in Becca’s suite. 

She jerks awake with a slight start when someone touches her knee, and it’s Natalie, her hair done in a different updo than all the bridesmaids, curls piled on top of her head and pinned into place, one strand left out and curling across her cheek and down over her neck. 

“Hey, sorry,” Natalie says apologetically. “You’re up next for makeup.” 

“Thanks,” Zoe says, stifling a yawn against the back of her hand and rolling her shoulders back. 

“Oh no, your nail,” Natalie says. “We forgot to fix it last night.” 

Zoe looks down at her ruined nail, having completely forgotten about it since before they’d left for the club last night. “Ahhh crap. I’ll see if Connor’s awake, he lives for this shit.” 

She shoots him a quick text before being ushered into the bathroom and tries not to flinch as some very loud lady with long nails puts so many things very close to her eyes for twenty-five minutes. Though Zoe does have to admit, she doesn’t half mind the results as she surveys herself in the mirror. The lack of bags under her eyes is certainly an improvement. With all the bridesmaids finished, they’re sent out of the room so Becca can finish getting ready, with strict instructions to meet fully dressed in the ballroom downstairs in an hour. 

Zoe checks her phone in the elevator. No reply from Connor, which almost certainly means he’s still sleeping, lucky bastard. Natalie looks up from where she’s curled up on the floor in front of her bed when Zoe opens the door, reading _Anna Karenina_. 

“How’re the Russian winters?” Zoe says with a laugh. 

“Bleak,” Natalie says, flipping the book closed and pulling her knee up towards her chest. “Oh, Evan came by.” 

Zoe thinks her voice sounds artificially light, but maybe she’s just overanalyzing it. She tries to keep her tone equally light, rummaging among her sheets for the makeup bag Norah had lent her last night. “Oh? What’d he want?” 

“I think he wanted to talk to you about something. He didn’t say what, though. Oh, and he brought you the churros from last night. Said you deserved them after the whole ordeal. I helped myself to one, I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Of course not,” Zoe says, finally locating the bag and hoisting it above her head triumphantly. Natalie laughs. 

“Connor’s, uh, probably still asleep honestly, so would you maybe be able to help me?” Zoe says, fiddling with the zipper of the bag. She stuffs down the impulse to deny the whole thing and claim she was ‘just joking, don’t worry’ in the three seconds it takes Natalie to answer, nodding vigorously and patting the carpet beside her enthusiastically. 

“I cannot promise any manicure miracles,” Natalie says, “but I can try my best.”

“Thanks,” Zoe says, handing her the dark blue polish. Natalie gives it a vigorous shake before reaching for her hand, Zoe’s heart panging as she realizes belatedly that it’s her left ring finger that Natalie’s cupping in her hand, her forehead creasing in concentration as she brushes on smooth lines of polish. 

“You’re good at this,” Zoe says, wishing her voice didn’t sound so goddamn wistful. 

“Gotta love those heightened fine motor skills,” Natalie says, running her nail over where a little bit of polish had ended up on Zoe’s skin. “There. Perfect.” 

Zoe had been looking down at her hands, but when she looks up Natalie is studying her face and her voice dies in the back of her throat. But then Natalie is dropping her hand and scooting backwards, casting her gaze around the room. 

“You should probably let that dry for a bit before you put your dress on,” Natalie says and disappears into the bathroom, leaving Zoe alone in the middle of the room. She can’t figure out why they keep bumping up against each other like this, like some sort of elliptical orbit, coming closer only to get farther away. 

Zoe lets herself indulge in feeling sorry for herself, eating the rest of the churros and attempting to get minimal cinnamon and sugar on herself. They are delicious, even cold, and Zoe’s spirits are considerably lifted when Natalie re-emerges from the bathroom in her dress. 

It’s the same cut as Zoe’s, a basic organza bridesmaid dress, sweetheart neckline, but where Zoe’s is knee-length and a soft sage green, Natalie’s is floor-length and a rich navy. 

“Oh wow,” Zoe says, completely involuntarily and then shakes her head at herself. “God, I sound just like the generic white hot guy in a teen movie, you know? Like when the girl emerges at the top of the stairs?” 

Natalie laughs and swishes the hem at her feet bashfully. “Nooo, it’s nice, really.”

“I’m just gonna—” Zoe gestures at the bathroom, and Natalie ducks out of the way. She’s got the door closed and locked before she realizes her dress is still hanging up in the closet and has to awkwardly re-emerge, trying to play it off casually as Natalie muffles a laugh behind her book.

Zoe almost wishes the dress had a back zip so she could have an excuse for Natalie to help her, but the good people at David’s Bridal just had to go with an entirely practical side zipper. She smoothes over the front of her dress — the green doesn’t look as good on her as the blue on Natalie, but that’s a pretty high bar anyways. She fastens her necklace, a small silver pendant of some sort of leaf that Becca had given her as a bridesmaid gift. 

Natalie’s putting her shoes on when Zoe comes out of the bathroom, and yeah, shit, it’s almost time for them to be downstairs. Zoe chucks her phone and a lipgloss into the little clutch bag she’d brought, and sits on the edge of the bed to put on her shoes. 

“Is it just me, or does none of this even feel real?” Zoe says, sitting up. “Like, we’re about to go witness people get married? People we know. I mean, I saw Becca throw a fit more than once because she didn’t get the pink cup at family dinners and now she’s going to be someone’s wife? Matrimony is wild.” 

“What was special about the pink cup?” Natalie asks, standing and holding the door open for her. 

“Nothing, it was just pink.” 

“Was this, like, recently?” 

“No, no, oh my god. I should have specified this was like when she was, like, seven.” 

Natalie laughs. “Okay, good, because I was like, whoa Isaac better get some pink cups stat.” 

“I mean, I’m sure Becca wouldn’t _mind_ ,” Zoe says, hitting the elevator button and looping her clutch over her wrist. 

“Maybe it was on their gift registry.” 

“Just, like, pink crystal Tiffany goblets.” 

“How could you possibly start your married life without them?” Natalie says as the elevator doors ding open. 

Zoe leans against the wall as Natalie hits the button for the lobby. “God, I just remembered both my mom and my dad are coming. That’s gonna be fun.” 

Natalie makes a sympathetic noise. “The first time my parents were in the same place after they separated was my graduation. It was not fun.” 

Zoe winces, and Natalie shakes her head. “Not that I’m saying this is the same as that, I’m sure everything will be fine,” she adds in a rush. 

“You don’t have to sugarcoat things for me,” Zoe says finally. 

“Well in that case, uh, there’s the very real possibility that this could be horrendously awkward,” Natalie says. “But I think you’ll be okay. And I’ll be there to bail you out if anything gets real bad.” 

“We should come up with a signal,” Zoe says as the elevator doors open onto the lobby, “In case I need a diversion.” 

“Hmmmmm, how about you give me a bird call and I’ll burst into hysterics and you can make a quick getaway with whatever you can carry from the gift table.” 

“You just want those pink cups, don’t you.” 

Natalie laughs. “I really do. Clearly seven-year-old Becca knew what was up.” 

Zoe pulls open the heavy wooden doors that lead into the ballroom. The entire space has been transformed from yesterday with swathes of navy fabric draping from the ceiling and down the walls and the chuppah has been set up at the end of the aisle outlined by blue and white flowers. The whole thing is very tasteful and chic without being over the top, which makes Zoe suspect Becca had managed to reign in her mom more than she’d thought possible given her aunt’s usual design tastes. 

They’re technically fifteen minutes early. Natalie breaks off to chat with her cousins, and Zoe’s left feeling awkward and useless at the side of the room as the last few things get set up. 

“Hey,” Evan says to her left, and Zoe turns to find him decked out in his groomsmen get-up — a very tasteful and well-cut navy suit, white shirt, and sage green tie the same colour as her dress. Despite having gotten over her thing for Evan literal years ago, she has to admit, he does look really good. 

He also looks a lot less hungover than he had this morning, which really improves the whole situation. 

“Hey, can we, uh, talk?” Evan says. 

“Sure.” 

“No, I mean, like, can we talk just us two? Or, I mean, I mean, I guess this _is_ just us two but I meant more, uh, private?” 

Zoe groans internally, knowing almost certainly where this is going, but she nods and lets Evan lead her out of the ballroom and up a set of stairs to a little balcony area that overlooks the lobby. There’s a long minute where she expects Evan to say something, but he just keeps tugging nervously at the hem of his jacket. 

“What’s up?” She asks finally, knowing they could be here for a long time if she waits for Evan to start the conversation. 

“I, um, I just wanted to apologize about last night. I mean, like honestly just all of yesterday, was very, uh, not good. And you were _super cool_ about it but, like, I _know_ I shouldn’t have put you in that position and obviously I messed up everyone’s night but especially yours. And I’m just really, really sorry.” 

Zoe nods and begins to say something but Evan just keeps going. “And obviously dinner was really, really bad and I should just clearly stop drinking that much, I think is the moral to be learned here. And I know it’s sort of weird like, like, like, with me and Jared ’cause of everything with me and you and, well, I mean you got my texts last night. I just want to say that I know it’s weird, and I make everything weird being here and—” 

“Evan,” Zoe says. “Okay, we _cannot_ keep doing this.” 

He blinks at her, startled. “Uh, what?” 

“This,” She gestures between the two of them. “This never-ending Evan Hansen guilt train, I can’t keep doing it and it’s not good for you either.” 

Evan stares back at her, clearly caught between confusion and wanting to apologize more. 

“Okay, look, look, it’s like, last night? The only reason I didn’t put together the bakery thing earlier was because I didn’t see your original text about how we should go there until we started looking for you. Because when I saw that you’d texted me like thirteen times I didn’t want to read them because I knew it would be like just this big whole string of apologies and then I’d have to spend time, like, reassuring you it was okay and it’s exhausting, Evan.” 

He’s gazing down at her, mouth half open and a startled look on his face like he might start crying, and she waves a hand. “Okay, listen. What happened between us was very, very not okay. I know that and you know that and honestly if we were going to sit down and talk about all the ways it was fucked up, we’d be here for, like, a week.”

“I’m so sor-” 

“Evan please. Stop. _Listen_ to me.” She reaches out and holds him steady, one hand on each of his upper arms, just below the shoulders. “You really, really hurt me. And I put all the work and effort and time into forgiving you, and it was not easy. It was honestly so hard. But I’m really glad I did it because despite everything that happened, I really like you and I think there’s something good in us being friends. But every time you spiral out onto these guilt trips it feels like none of the very hard work I did to forgive you even matters to you and we’re just going to be in limbo forever. And I don’t wanna be in limbo, I just want to be your friend.” 

It all pours out of her, more than she had even meant to say, and she sort of gets now how Evan can spiral off on those long tangents, how easy it is to just let everything rush out like a punctured tire. 

“It does matter,” Even says very quietly after a long moment. “Of course it matters.”

Zoe lets go of his arms, taking a shallow step backwards and feeling a strange rush of tears pricking the corners of her eyes. 

“Zoe,” Evan says and she shakes her hand at him, tilting her head back and fanning at her eyes. 

“I’m fine. I’m fine. If I ruin my makeup Becca will murder me,” she says, blinking until she feels slightly more under control. “I really don’t know where that came from. I’m fine, I swear.” 

Evan chews his lip. “I’m so—” he cuts himself short, fingers tugging at his cuff again.

“You wanna apologize to me again, don’t you.” 

“Uh, very much so, yes,” he blurts honestly. “I won’t, though, I just...really wish I’d known sooner I was making you feel like that. Because I want us to be friends too. So much.” 

“Good,” Zoe says, huffing a slightly watery laugh. “That sounds really nice. I’m gonna hug you. Don’t be weird, okay?” 

“Okay….Jose.” 

She laughs and pulls Evan down a bit so she can tuck her head on his shoulder, and it’s nice, his arms coming up around her back, both of them huffing out laughs of relief more than anything else. 

“Is this, uh, is this weird?” He asks and she pats him on the shoulder twice. 

“No, it’s really nice,” she says, feeling so much distance melting between them. It had been so hard when they’d gotten so close during her junior year to then turn around and lose him so completely in the fallout. But for once this actually feels like a proper new beginning for them and not just another bandaid.

Evan’s eyes are a little bit watery when they break away and Zoe very politely pretends not to notice, fixing her eye on the details of the plush hotel carpeting until he’s ready to start heading back down to the ballroom. 

“I still can’t believe you remembered about that bakery,” Zoe says, trying to keep her voice light, bumping against Evan’s shoulder with her own. “I must have shared that video about it literally two years ago.” 

Evan shrugs. “I have a good memory for that kind of stuff.” 

“We should go back properly sometime, minus all the drama. Those churros were seriously excellent.” 

“I’m glad you enjoyed them after, uh, after all the trouble in getting them.” 

“I mean I think you were really the only one in trouble,” Zoe says. “Is Jared still pissed?” 

Evan wiggles his hand side to side. “Eh, not really? He threatened to make me sleep in the bathtub if I ever did something like that again, but it was pretty hollow, you know?” 

“Listen, I am sure if he did actually banish you to the tub, he’d be squeezing in there with you.” Evan ducks his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Also, for the record, I am really glad you guys have each other. Earlier you said— I don’t want you to think it’s awkward or I’m begrudging you for being happy.” 

“Oh,” Evan says, with an edge of genuine surprise that both startles and saddens her. “That’s, I mean, that’s, like, really nice to hear. Not that I’m so full of myself that, like, I thought you were pining away or, that I’m saying —I’m _not saying_ you were doing that. Because you weren’t. I just…” he waves a hand uselessly. “Just if you liked someone, like, like, like, for instance Natalie maybe? I would just only be very happy for you that’s all.”

“Oh, very subtle,” Zoe says and just as she reaches out for the door it swings open, almost smacking her. 

“Ahh! Sorry!” Norah says. “I was just coming to find you, we’re having a crisis.” 

She can hear the sounds of her Aunt Janice shrieking from here and winces as she slinks back into the ballroom. The wedding party has gathered in a small room off of the ballroom and Janice is stalking back and forth, clearly having a fit over something. 

“What’s going on?” Zoe says under her breath to Natalie who’s wrapped her arms around herself self-consciously. 

“There’s not enough bouquets because they never ordered one for me, so now she’s flipping out that if I walk down the aisle myself I’ll look dumb, but heaven help us if I walk down the aisle with one of the bridesmaids. Her sister just went to go get Becca so she can decide what she wants to do.” 

Zoe groans, leaning against the wall. She thought they’d had enough of this heterosexual nonsense yesterday, but apparently not. 

“Sooo,” Natalie says conversationally, “her mom is your aunt, right?” 

“We are indeed genetically related, sadly,” Zoe says. “Please don’t hold it against me.”

“Oh I would never,” Natalie says very softly, and Zoe catches Evan giving them a look out of the corner of her eye. Connor was one thing, but god, she does not need Evan watching them over her shoulder too and she’s grateful for Becca’s arrival pulling focus off of them. 

She looks absolutely stunning, and Zoe almost gasps despite seeing pictures of her dress at least a dozen times. She’s wearing a soft tulle ball gown, the skirt of her dress layered, almost floating away from her. Her dark hair is swept up into a soft braided updo and with a bouquet in hand she looks like she stepped out a of a wedding magazine, her arrival bringing everyone to silence, including, thankfully her mother. 

“Okay, what the heck is going on?” She says, reminding Zoe so much of how her mom gets when she’s annoyed but trying to have a positive outlook. 

“Oh, Rebecca,” her mom says, lunging forward. “It’s an absolute _catastrophe_. Natasha doesn’t have a bouquet so she absolutely _cannot_ enter alone. Think how absolutely ridiculous she’ll look walking in with nothing to carry.”

“It’s Natalie actually, not Natasha,” Matthew pipes up from behind her, and she wheels around to glare at him for a moment before turning back to her daughter. 

Becca, bless her, manages to hold her calm collected facade well in the face of this. “Okay, well let’s rearrange and have her come in with one of the bridesmaids.” 

Aunt Janice blinks at her, horrified, like she just suggested they sacrifice a virgin at the beginning of the ceremony. “Rebecca, darling, please be reasonable—” 

“Oh. My god. _Mom_. Stop being such a homophobe for five seconds. It’s my wedding and that’s what I want.” 

“Holy shit,” Natalie mumbles under her breath, just loud enough for just Zoe to hear. “Step aside, Macklemore, we’ve got a new one true ally.” 

Zoe snorts a laugh but manages to cover it mostly as a cough, drawing Becca’s attention. “Zo, didn’t you say yesterday you’d go with Natalie? Let’s just do that. Have Eric go with Norah and have Evan go with Maddie.” 

Everyone rearranges and pairs themselves off, Zoe having had a bouquet shoved into her hands at some point. Natalie’s only an inch or two taller than her, but Zoe feels hyper aware of this as she tucks her hand onto the crook of her elbow. 

“Hi,” Natalie says very softly and Zoe grips her bouquet more tightly. In all fairness she had volunteered for this yesterday, but that was yesterday and this is today and after spending 24 hours sinking into the bloom of affection, Zoe thinks she might just be a little too bi to handle this. 

Becca claps her hands. “Yeah, that looks great! I’m happy with that. Mother do not _even start_ with me right now. Go sit down, we’re fine here.” 

Zoe’s never seen her Aunt Janice speechless before, and she’s gotta say as she vanishes into the ballroom, it’s a sight Zoe could definitely get used to. 

“You are my hero,” Matthew says. “Isaac is a very lucky man.” 

“I know,” Becca says cheerfully. “Okay, someone let me sit down, I’ve gotta pace myself if I’m standing for the whole ceremony in these shoes.” 

Caitlin and Amanda, her other two bridesmaids, jump up and let her collapse onto the chaise. It’s only then that Zoe realizes she’s still hanging onto Natalie’s arm. It feels more awkward to let go at this point so she just leans into it, quite literally leaning up against Natalie as she checks her phone, trying hard to play it off like it’s no big deal. Nevermind the fact that it takes her three times before she can even comprehend the text messages Connor has sent her. 

_just met up w mom wants to kno if ur sitting w us at dinner_

_she doesnt wanna sit with larry_

_and who can blame her tbqfh_

_also tell bec im sorry for showing her up at her own wedding_

This message is followed by a selfie of him and Jackson taken in the mirrored elevator. Connor’s wearing his hair down, a little bit more carefully styled than he usually wears it, and Zoe has to admit he really did bring his A-game to this wedding in a navy blue blazer with a bold floral print along the shoulders. Jackson’s not joking around either in a slim-cut grey suit with a floral tie that matches Connor’s blazer a little too well to be a coincidence. 

“Look,” Zoe says, tilting her phone screen for Natalie, who reaches out to steady it with her free hand. 

“Awwww, matchy,” she says.

“They’re so embarrassing,” Zoe says fondly. “Who even does the whole matching thing for a wedding when you’re not the ones getting married?” 

“Uh?” Natalie says, gesturing down at their dresses, which are identical save for the colour and length. 

Zoe gasps in mock horror. “Oh my goodness, how could we— this is so embarrassing, being caught in the same outfit.” 

“Don’t worry, you look much better in it than me.” 

“I have to very respectfully disagree. Green isn’t really my colour, but blue is definitely yours.” 

Natalie opens her mouth to retort but Maddie is suddenly shushing everyone. “Quiet, they’re going to start letting people into the ballroom, phones off and away please.”

Already Zoe can hear the soft hush of voices outside the door, and she shoots Connor a quick text before turning her phone off, and finally lets go of Natalie’s arm so she can tuck it in her little clutch on the table dedicated for their stuff. 

She feels nervous all of a sudden, even though her entire job is just walking down the aisle and then standing and looking nice. She catches Evan’s eye and he gives her an exaggerated grimace, and Zoe really does not envy him having to go first. Maddie hurries them into their little couplets, Becca standing oddly quiet but jittery in the corner. 

“God, I know it’s kind of misogynistic, but I totally get now why people ask their dads to walk them down the aisle,” Zoe whispers to Natalie. She’d been surprised and seriously impressed when Becca had announced she was forgoing that tradition, but she sort of looks like she could use the support right now as she rocks back and forth, picking at the edges of her bouquet. 

There’s a long few minutes where they stand poised to go, like parade floats in a parking lot, everyone starting to get more agitated and jittery as the noise outside the door increases. Zoe realizes belatedly that she’s clutching Natalie’s arm a little too tightly and loosens her grip, shooting her an apologetic glance. 

Then all at once it’s time to go, the opening strains of _Can’t Help Falling In Love_ being plucked out by the harpist Zoe had caught glimpses of earlier. Natalie pats her hand sweetly with her free hand and Zoe takes a long, deep breath as Maddie and Evan disappear down the aisle, thankful to be going last so she has a moment to steady herself. 

“Ready?” Natalie whispers, and Zoe shoots a last look at Becca, who suddenly is the face of calm. 

Zoe nods, and steps out into the ballroom like stepping off of the diving board. There’s a series of shutter clicks, both from the professional photographers and the guests. Zoe catches a glimpse of her mom beside Connor and Jackson, furiously taking photos with her iPhone. 

Zoe doesn’t realize she’s been holding her breath until she splits off from Natalie and takes her place with the other bridesmaids, letting out a long deep exhale as the harp music changes to the wedding march and Becca appears at the end of the aisle. 

She’s literally glowing, practically floating down the aisle, smiling so hard it looks like it hurts. Zoe catches Isaac tearing up and Becca gives him a little wave with her bouquet as she comes down the aisle. After all the hectic stress and performativity and the planning, it’s so gratifying to see that genuine spark of their love in this moment and Zoe finds herself holding back tears for the second time that morning. 

Even after having walked through most of the ceremony yesterday, Zoe finds herself accepting and using an entire fistful of tissues from Norah. She manages to mostly keep it together while Evan reads some long poem with a lot of tree imagery, and Zoe feels so proud of him that she forgives him for how much of it he’s so clearly directing at Jared sitting in the second row with his mom. But she can’t hold it together and is outright weeping by the time they get to the seven blessings. Isaac’s red in the face having cried through most of the ceremony but both he and Becca are glowing, incandescently happy as he breaks the glass. 

The wedding party is swept off to do photos but Zoe manages to grab a quick hug from her mom on her way out of the ballroom before Maddie is practically dragging her into the elevator. God bless Becca for at least being practical enough to not make them do outside photos in February, instead they’re taking photos in the glass enclosed terrace on the top of the hotel with skyline views stretching out behind them. The photographer is clearly a pro and trying to get the extended wedding party out of there as quickly as possible so she can move on to Becca and Isaac, but cocktail hour (which is actually two hours, according to the wedding schedule) is more than half over by the time Zoe makes it back downstairs. 

Natalie and the groomsmen are still upstairs, so Zoe circles the ballroom looking for people she knows, almost startling and spilling her drink when she sees Connor and her dad talking together. She’s over at Connor’s side in a hot second, ready to jump in, but things actually seem to be fine. 

“Oh hey, Zoe,” Connor says eerily nonchalant, sipping at his drink. “How did photos go?” 

“Uh, fine. What are you guys talking about?” Zoe cautions. 

“Eh, you know, just this and that,” Connor says, checking his phone from his pocket. “I think Jackson’s ready to take a bit of a break before dinner, though.” 

Zoe scans the room and locates Jacksons over with Jared and Evan’s mom, glaring over at Larry like he’ll personally body check him the moment Connor’s in any sort of distress. Which probably explains why this conversation was going so smoothly. 

After their parents divorce, Connor had basically cut off contact entirely with their dad, something which Zoe absolutely does not fault him for in the slightest. She knows that Connor has never understood why she bothered to maintain a relationship with him, though, even if that relationship is mostly just letting him buy her dinner once a month. 

After Jackson has whisked Connor off, an arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders, Zoe spends a mostly fine ten minutes chatting with her dad. He’s gotten better lately at actually asking her about what’s going on in her life, but they still spend the majority of their conversation talking about his newfound interest in running and some generic office drama at his firm. It’s not wholly unpleasant, but it’s still a nice relief when Evan emerges and lets her know her mom is looking for her. 

“Your timing is really improving,” Zoe says as they step out into the lobby, and Evan laughs and shakes his head. 

“Connor sent me a text and told me to go retrieve you.” 

“Don’t ever say I don’t look out for you,” Connor says from where he’s snuggled between their mom and Jackson on one of the lobby sofas.

Her mom stands to pull Zoe into another hug. “Oh sweetheart, you look beautiful.” 

“You’re one to talk, mom, oh my god,” Zoe says, stepping back to get a better look at her mom’s outfit. She’s wearing this amazing long brocade jacket, shimmery silver and icy blue over a slinky plum dress. 

“She’s trying to make sure Lawrence really knows who’s winning this divorce. No wonder he’s not staying for the reception,” Connor says, and Jackson huffs a laugh in agreement. Their mom _tsks_ at him but doesn’t contradict, picking at a pretend thread on the sleeve of her jacket. 

“Oh hey, Ev,” Connor says. “We need another person for our table at dinner, you should ditch your boyfriend and come sit with us.” 

“Oh, that would be _lovely_ ,” her mom says, smiling sunnily at Evan, who ducks his head sheepishly. 

“Mom, he’s not going to ditch his boyfriend to sit with us,” Zoe says, and Evan gives her a grateful little glance. Saying no to her mom has never been his forte and the cause of more than enough drama. 

“I should actually probably go find Jared,” Evan says, taking half a step back. 

“Well, don’t be a stranger,” her mom says and settles back into the couch beside Connor, who’s smirking up at Zoe in a way that makes the hair on her arms stand up. 

“Hey, you know who we should have sit with us? Natalie.” 

Zoe’s stomach lurches as her mom turns to look at Connor expectantly. “Oh? Who’s Natalie?” 

“The girl Zoe walked down the aisle with, she’s _super_ nice,” Connor says. 

Zoe tries to communicate ‘I will kill you and also tell mom about what _really_ happened to that vase, do not test me’ with her eyes, but then Jackson’s jumping in and she knows she’s totally screwed. 

“She’s really nice Cynthia, you’d love her. Plus she told me last night her parents aren’t coming, so she’s all by herself,” he adds. 

Her mom turns to her expectantly and Zoe tries not to pout. “I can ask, she might be sitting with some of Isaac’s family though, I don’t know. I would really like to just go upstairs and put some different shoes on right now, though, so can I just go do that first please?” 

She gives Connor a last little glare on her way to the elevator and he just grins at her sweetly. She doesn’t even make it all the way to her room, pulling her shoes off in the hallway and trying to balance them in one hand as she grapples with the door key. 

Zoe chucks her heels vaguely in the direction of the closet, flopping into her bed and probably messing her hair up a bit and not caring. She lets out a long, deep, sighing breath and lets herself close her eyes for a minute, hands resting on her forehead. 

“You okay there?” Natalie calls from the bathroom and Zoe sits up sharply, not having realized Natalie was in the room. 

“Well, in a shocking twist of events,” Zoe calls back, “My brother is actually causing me more stress at this family function than my father.” 

Natalie makes a sympathetic noise, emerging from the bathroom with a little pouch of bobby pins. Zoe lets her legs dangle over the edge of the bed, feet not quite touching the floor. “I’m also to inform you that you are invited to eat dinner at our table. Family drama should be to a minimum but, uh, I will absolutely cover for you if you don’t want to or you were planning on sitting with someone else or whatever.” 

Something in Natalie’s shoulders goes cold and tense and Zoe sits up suddenly, replaying what she'd just said. “Not that I don’t want you to! God, honestly, like, it would be nice, it’s just my family and they’re a bit much. I mean I’d love to say last night was not an indicative sampling of my brother and his boyfriend, but it honestly was and I told you about my mom and all her weird cult things and my dad is just, well, frankly my dad is just an asshole and he’s sort of gotten better but the bar was so low to begin with and—” 

Zoe forcibly makes herself stop talking because she’s going a mile a minute and if she hasn’t scared Natalie off by now this will definitely be the nail in the coffin. 

“And?” Natalie prompts sweetly. 

“And I’m realizing I’m talking too much and making it sound like I don’t want you to eat dinner with us,” Zoe says. Because even for all of her trepidation about exposing Natalie to her family, she also doesn’t want her to _not_ eat with them. She’s stuck between a rock and her nosy family and there’s no clear path out of it. 

But Natalie just tilts her head at her and says, “Yeah okay, sounds fun.” 

“Your idea of fun and mine seem like they might be on entirely different planets.” 

Natalie laughs and slips off her heels. “Isn’t variety the spice of life or something?” 

Zoe groans and sits up, hoping her hair isn’t too squished down, trying to fluff it back up with her fingers as she steps over to her suitcase, searching for her flats. 

“Great minds think alike,” Natalie says, slipping into her own flats and waiting patiently at the door for her while Zoe gives her outfit a once over in the mirror. 

Everyone’s been kicked out of the ballroom and are milling in the lobby or off elsewhere by the time they get downstairs. Zoe catches a glimpse of Jared helping Evan refasten his kippah, Evan wincing and Jared saying something affectionately mocking she doesn’t quite catch. 

“Okay, I’m giving you one last chance to bail,” Zoe says under her breath as they approach her mom chatting with Maddie and a few people she doesn’t recognize. 

Natalie reaches out and squeezes her on the forearm. “Trust me, weird family stuff I can handle.” 

Yeah, Zoe thinks, but I don’t know if I can. 

Her mom makes an excited gasp when Zoe taps her on the shoulder to introduce her to Natalie, who for her part, seems surprised but not opposed when Cynthia pulls her into a hug. 

“Oh, don’t you just look gorgeous,” her mom gushes, holding Natalie at arm’s length. “Connor has just been talking my ear off about how lovely you’ve been this weekend.” 

“Oh!?” Natalie says, a mixture of surprise and delight that makes Zoe’s heart leap as her mom links arms with Natalie and starts leading her towards the ballroom so they can find their table. 

Shockingly dinner is….fine. Connor and her mom both are engaging without being interrogative, there’s one dangerous moment when her mom digs a little deep asking Natalie about her family, and when she hesitates Jackson swoops in with an anecdote about his brother Luke. Somehow, Natalie eating with her fork in her right hand while Zoe eats with hers in her left, the two of them jostling each other every so often, is charming rather than annoying. Zoe squashes down the overly sappy thought that their elbows are kissing. 

They both trail off to the bathroom after dessert, Zoe really starting to wish that she’d taken the time to wash off her thick wedding makeup when they’d gone upstairs. She wipes at her face with a paper towel while Natalie washes her hands in the sink beside her. 

“Listen, not to, like, undermine her weird past cultish tendencies, but your mom is literally so cool,” she says, scrubbing at her hands. “Like, I get that it’s really easy for me, a weird outsider stranger who ate one meal with her, to say that, but seriously. She seems great.” 

Zoe fumbles for words, wishing she could scramble together the right combination of words to tell Natalie how she seems to know better than anyone the tightrope to walk between loving forgiveness and no-bullshit honesty when it comes to the various nonsense in her life. But everything she comes up with seems too trite or too heavy and Zoe just stares at her dumbly for a long moment before Becca and Maddie come bursting into the bathroom. 

“GUYS!!!” Becca chirps, intoxicated on a mix of love and alcohol. “Oh my god you guys.” She pulls both of them into a hug. “I love you guys so much, you looked so _preeeeeetty_. We’re doing bouquet toss in five minutes! You gotta do it! Then first dance, then hora. Which is gonna be _lit,_ I’m so ready.” 

She releases both of them with a laugh, grabbing her sister by the arm. “Okay, come help me, I have to pee like a motherfucker.” 

Natalie bursts out a delighted peal of laughter as Zoe ushers her out of the bathroom. She’s impressed actually by how much more composed Becca is when she floats back into the ballroom, but that’s probably a good thing given that they’re doing the hora right after the first dance and being hoisted into the air on a chair while tipsy sounds like possibly the most horrific combination Zoe could imagine. 

“You know, normally the most fun part of an interfaith wedding is the non-Jewish party just being terrified of being lifted up on the chair, but Becca seems hype,” Natalie notes, standing with Zoe near the back of the cluster of waiting unmarried ladies. “I mean, it seems fun in theory, but I know most of the groomsmen pretty well and I’m not sure I would put my bodily safety in their hands.” 

“Full same,” Zoe says, catching sight of her mom and Connor on the periphery of the room. “Oh my god, look.” 

Connor gives her mom a firm push in the direction of the crowd and she makes her way, with a slight hint of reluctance towards Natalie and Zoe. 

“Your brother has insisted that I am, in fact, unmarried and that I should partake,” she says with a slight eye roll. “I don’t think I stand much chance against you young people, I don’t quite have the heart to go wrestling for the darn thing.” 

“I don’t think you’ll get much of a fight from us,” Natalie says, gesturing between Zoe and herself. 

“Hey, if Evan’s mom’s participating you should to,” Zoe adds, gesturing with her head to over where Heidi Hansen is standing with Norah. She’s wearing a grey jumpsuit in a slightly shimmery fabric that catches the light when she moves, a soft wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders. 

“Who wants it!?” Becca cries suddenly, mounting a chair with some help from her new husband as the crowd of women cheers. She turns and hurls the bouquet with surprising force over her shoulder, sailing over the crowd.

And landing directly in her mom’s hands. She blinks in surprise, taking a step back and holding it above her head with a delighted cry. 

Zoe feels a sob force its way out of her chest as the crowd around them exclaims excitedly. She’s not sad exactly, but her mom has had such a rough few years with everything that’d happened and she deserves this small moment of happiness more than anyone Zoe knows. 

“Sweetheart,” her mom says, reaching out and wrapping her in a hug. “Oh, sweetheart.” 

Zoe clings on for a long time, letting her mom rock her back and forth. “I love you so much, mom.” 

“I love you too.” She kisses the side of her head. “Hey, no tears, it’s a happy day.” 

Zoe wipes her eyes and takes a side step as everyone starts to clear the dance floor so Becca and Isaac can have their first dance. 

“Hey!” Heidi Hansen says, sweeping over to them and giving both Zoe and her mom a quick hug. “You both look great. Congrats on the bouquet catch, Cynthia, I look forward to your upcoming nuptials.” 

He mom laughs. “Well, I don’t know about that, but this is very lovely in any case.” 

“I’m going to go sit with Connor for a bit I think,” Zoe says, as _A Thousand Years_ starts blasting over the speakers, but her mom is already tuned out, smiling at something Heidi’s saying. 

She weaves her way through the crowd, trying not to block anyone who’s taking photos or filming the first dance, catching scattered glimpses of Becca and Isaac who, without cliche, genuinely seem like the only people in the room to each other. 

She ends up bumping into Natalie before she can find Connor, Natalie standing from her chair when she sees Zoe approaching. “Hey,” she grins, “Way to go, your mom!” 

“I think she might be a bit burnt out on the institution of marriage right now,” Zoe says.

Natalie nods sympathetically. “Yeah, divorce will do that to you.” 

“Well that and also, being married to a man for like 25 years when you’re a lesbian will do that to you.” 

Natalie raises her eyebrows in surprise but doesn’t make any weird comments, which Zoe appreciates. She doesn’t need yet another “Oh my god, is _everyone_ in your family gay!?” crack. Especially when her mom’s realization had come so far out of left field for her. Though it had certainly explained some of Cynthia’s comments when Zoe had come out to her as bisexual, asking if she was really sure since ‘all girls have crushes on other girls, it’s completely normal.’ 

“So,” Natalie says, cautiously changing the topic. “Am I the only who cannot hear this song and _not_ think about Twilight?” 

“Yes! That was totally my first thought too!” 

“Let me tell you, as someone who grew up right outside Seattle, all the rain is not sexy or mysterious, it’s just damp and cold.” 

“What, you mean it doesn’t just rain for the sake of symbolism?” 

“It only did for me because I was an angsty teen, so the constant rain thing really worked with my vibe.” 

Zoe’s about to retort when Connor is suddenly grabbing her arm and pulling her a few feet to the left. 

“Ow, Connor, what the fuck?” She says rubbing her arm. “I’m talking to Natal—” 

“Shh! Look!” Connor says intensely, pointing to the opposite side of the room. 

“What? What am I looking at?” 

“Look at mom and Evan’s mom.” 

Zoe squints and has to shift and get on her tiptoes so she can get a better view. Her mom and Heidi have moved over to one of the high tables with tasteful little arrangements in the centre. She’s smiling, touching Heidi’s arm as she says something Zoe can’t hear from this far away. Whatever it is, Heidi appreciates it, tilting her head back and laughing. 

“Am I crazy, or is mom flirting with _Heidi Hansen_.” 

Zoe looks back again, her mom now showing Heidi something on her phone, probably photos she took during the ceremony, the two of them very close together. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Zoe says. “Holy fuck, I think she is.” 

Connor pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an incredulous laugh. “Well, thank god it didn’t work out with you and Evan.” 

“Oh stop,” Zoe says smacking him in the arm. “Is Heidi even…?” 

“Is Heidi even what?” Jared says from behind them. 

“Our mom is flirting with Heidi and she caught the bouquet, so uh, we’re trying to figure out the chances of that panning out. Does Heidi like women?” 

Jared laughs. “She made out with my mom in college, soooo, uh yeah, hopefully that answers your question.” 

“She made out with your mom? And you’re dating her son?” 

Jared shrugs. “They’re happy we made it work this generation, they had no spark.” 

“Jesus,” Natalie says suddenly. “That’s just like Twilight.” 

“Are you calling me Reneesme?” 

“I meaaaaaan,” Natalie says and Jared throws up his hands and stalks off, probably off to tell Evan his honour has been besmirched.

“Heads up!” One of Isaac’s brother’s says, trying to move past them with a chair as the last notes of the song filter out and everyone starts to reassemble for the hora. Connor takes the chance to slip away, probably off to gossip with Jackson about this possible romantic development. 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “God, it’s always _something_ with my family.” 

Natalie pats her shoulder sympathetically as they slip forward into the crowd, Matthew standing up on a chair and trying to give instructions to Becca’s bewildered gentile family members. The whole thing ends up being a little more sloppy and tentative than usual, but Zoe lets herself be swept up into it. The DJ immediately switches over to _Uptown Funk_ once Isaac and Becca are back on solid ground and Maddie’s dragging her into a dance circle with the rest of the bridesmaids. 

She taps out after five or six songs and beelines for the drink table, chugging back several cups in a row in a way that does not quite match the tastefulness of lime and cucumber water. 

“Hey,” Jared says, sidestepping her to grab a cup. “You looked like you were having fun out there.”

Zoe nods and hums thoughtfully as Jared takes a sip of his water, surveying over the dance floor. “I just wanted to say,” he starts, with an uncharacteristic level of restraint. “That Heidi is really, really great. And, like, I’m not saying anything _is_ happening with her and your mom, but if it was, it really could be a good thing.” 

His sincerity throws her off and she scrambles for something witty to say. Jared has a tendency to throw her off more when he’s clearly not trying to. “I mean, that would make me like, your step-sister-in-law, you know, if we can take bouquet tosses as gospel.” 

“That doesn’t sound awful,” Jared shrugs. 

“Probably a step up from your boyfriend’s ex.” 

The music changes as the last dance song fades out and it switches over to something more subdued. “Oh my god,” Jared says with a laugh, recognizing the song as Jason Mraz croons over the speakers. “Oh, Zoe, we gotta dance, this is our song.” 

She raises an eyebrow, but lets him drag her onto the dance floor.“I wasn’t aware we had a song,” she says, settling her hands on his shoulders. 

“Remember that stupid party in senior year, well your junior year. We were on the porch and this came on and people nearly rioted at Jason Mraz ruining their rager. At that guy’s house, what the fuck was his name, Leo something?” 

“Leo Andrews?” Zoe supplies, the memory suddenly flooding back to her. “Oh my god, I was just thinking about that last night.” 

“You were?” 

“Yeah because you were—” she stops herself, looking down and away but Jared’s too sharp. 

“You were gonna say cause I was crying about Evan again, weren’t you?” He says, with no hint of judgment or malice, just matter of fact. 

“I meeeeeean,” she says, and he laughs, adjusting his hands on her waist. He’s a surprisingly good dancer, leading without being pushy and managing to easily find a swaying rhythm to a song that is technically too fast to be a proper slow song. 

“No, that’s very fair,” he says. “Also, I know you and Evan already did the apology song and dance, so I’ll keep this brief. But I was really not fair to you when you guys were dating, and clearly, we all know _why_ that was now. But still, you didn’t deserve that, especially on top of everything else. So, basically, uh, I’m sorry for taking my gay teen angst out on you and for taking this long to say anything about it.” 

Somehow this is more unexpected than the dancing, and Zoe nods seriously for a moment. “Alright, apology accepted. So, now that this is all settled, when should I expect my invitation to the Kleinman-Hansen wedding?” Zoe asks, happy to move on from lingering too long on her junior year. 

Jared tilts his head. “Well, you should really ask Evan about that since he called dibs on proposing.” 

“He loves you a lot,” Zoe says. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.” 

“Lord knows how,” Jared says as the song fades out, but doesn’t step away as he smiles at something over her shoulder. “Oh, speak of the devil.” 

Zoe turns, unsurprised to see Evan looking bashful behind them as another slow song starts up. “Uh, hey guys.” 

“Oh hey baby, Zoe was just asking me when you’re gonna propose, and honestly, inquiring minds would love to know.” 

Evan blinks at him. “Jared, I work at Pottery Barn.” 

Jared laughs delightedly. “Okay, fair enough.” 

“Do you mind if I cut in?” Evan says to Zoe, and she sighs melodramatically. 

“Well, I guess if you _must_ , but I will say it’s a real hardship that you’re not dancing with me first.” 

“Well, I would,” Evan says, taking Jared’s hand. “But, uh, I’m pretty sure someone’s already in line.” He tilts his head, gesturing over her shoulder and Zoe turns. 

Natalie is standing behind her, somehow both exactly who Zoe was looking for and absolutely not who she expected. 

“Hey,” Zoe says, voice catching in her throat and shooting up an extra octave. 

“Hey,” Natalie says back. “Do you want to—” 

“Yes!” Zoe cuts in, because who needs subtlety, apparently. Natalie puts one arm around her waist, the other taking her hand and pulling them close together. Zoe can’t even hear what the song is over the blood rushing in her ears. 

“Is this okay?” Natalie says, barely over a whisper and Zoe nods, trying to relax into the hold as she puts her arm up under Natalie’s, hand resting on her shoulder blade. They’re so close together she can see where Natalie’s real eyelashes meet the false lashes the makeup artist put on. 

“This is okay,” Zoe says back finally. “I mean, my Aunt Janice might not be happy about this many gays on the dance floor, but she can deal.” 

Natalie laughs like the peal of bells. “Here, spin,” she says and Zoe goes twirling out, almost smacking into Norah and some boy, before spinning back into Natalie’s arms, somehow even closer together now than they’d been before. 

“Hey,” Zoe says again softly. 

“Hey,” Natalie says back, even softer. 

“You know what I just realized?” 

“What?” 

“You didn’t finish your story last night, about how you kind of knew me but didn’t?” 

Natalie groans, tilting her head back, and for a second Zoe thinks she’s ruined absolutely everything, but then she just readjusts, pulls Zoe a little closer and she can see Natalie isn’t upset she’s... _blushing_. 

“It’s kind of….very embarrassing,” she says finally. 

“That’s okay,” Zoe says, god, she knows she might be pressing too hard, but she needs to know now. She wants to know _everything_. 

Natalie’s hair is starting to fall out of its updo despite the entire package of bobby pins Zoe knows was used in its creation, not to mention all the additional ones Natalie had put in before dinner, and when she shakes her head softly, the whole thing shifts and moves. “You’ll have to remind me where I left off yesterday.” 

“Something something orchestra auditions, something something serious artist face, something something Dr. Khatri.” Zoe scrunches her forehead, trying to remember. 

“‘Serious artist face,’” Natalie teases. “Well, that’s the nicest way anyone’s ever told me I have resting bitch face.” 

“You don’t!” Zoe protests, and Natalie smiles like she doesn’t quite believe her but continues. 

“Well anyways, Dr. Khatri tells me that I should go watch the Jazz Ensemble and really focus on the performers and how they radiate their love of music when they play. And she, uh, may have specifically mentioned you.” 

“Oh!?” Zoe says, immensely flattered that some professor she’s never met is applauding her performance technique to actual music majors. “What did she say?” 

“Not really anything specific, she just suggested that maybe I could learn something if I payed particular attention to the guitarist.” 

“And did you?” Zoe asks, barely above a whisper. 

“I did,” Natalie says. “When you play it’s like, it’s like you’re just radiating all the love you feel for music and it’s just pouring out of you like light and you’re trying to keep it all held inside your body, but it keeps bursting out through your eyes, your fingertips, your smile.” 

Zoe realizes they’ve stopped travelling across the dance floor, they’re planted in one spot but still swaying to the music. She feels like she’s going to burst with the way Natalie is pouring this information into her, and she’s not done yet. “And you smile like...like you’re hiding something, like you’ve got to keep all your light and love this secret, but, like you don’t want to. Like you want someone to know.” 

Everything is too sharp and too bright and Zoe feels like she might melt under the gaze of Natalie’s warm brown eyes. 

“See, just like that,” Natalie says, ducking her head shyly and Zoe lets go of her hand to self-consciously touch her face. She hadn’t even been aware that she was smiling. 

“Natalie, I—” Zoe starts, but is cut off by the overwhelming loudness of _Mr. Brightside_ suddenly blasting through the speakers, a wave of new people washing onto the dance floor. It’s strange, though, how the moment isn’t broken this time, the two of them still cocooned in their own little world. 

“Do you want to—” “Hey, let’s get—” 

Zoe laughs, taking a step away. “Sorry, you go first.” 

“I was just going to say, maybe, do you wanna go for a walk or something? Get out of here?” 

She catches a glimpse of Jared, Evan, Connor, and Jackson in a dance circle, on their way off the dance floor, Connor jumping up and down hanging onto Jackson’s lapels as they both sing along to each other, Evan a little stiff and awkward trying to keep up with Jared’s flailing limbs. 

“Where do you want to go?” Zoe asks, already trying to figure out the best path out of the ballroom. 

“I, um, I don’t actually know,” Natalie says a bit sheepishly. 

“We could just go back to the room maybe?” Zoe suggests, and then realizes. “Oh god, sorry, I didn’t meant that to sound like...that.” 

“I mean,” Natalie bites her lip and gives a little one shoulder shrug and holy fuck. 

“Okay,” Zoe says, trying not to betray her pounding heart and sweating palms. Natalie holds open the door for her and they make their way to the elevators and Zoe has to stop herself from picking at her nail polish nervously. 

She looks down at her hand, boldly reaching over and grabbing Natalie’s hand as the elevator doors whoosh shut, catching sight of Natalie’s smile in the reflection of the elevator doors. The intangible thing between them all weekend starts to get a lot more tangible as they make their way down the hall and into the room, Zoe standing in front of the door for a blank second before realizing she needs to, actually, put the key card in. 

“Sorry,” she says, laughing nervously and dropping Natalie’s hand so she can look in her clutch. The two of them stumble through the doorway when she manages to get it right on her third try. 

“Were you, uh, planning on going back downstairs at some point?” Natalie says, taking her shoes off and Zoe shakes her head; there’s only another 40 minutes or so of the reception, and after being up until four last night she’s honestly impressed she made it this long. Plus, she has no desire to deal with whatever Connor’s reaction’s going to be to realizing she’s snuck off with Natalie. 

“Okay, cool, I’m going to, um, put something else on then.” She snorts at herself, “Yeah let me just slip into something more comfortable, Jesus Christ.” 

She goes into the bathroom to change and Zoe decides to do the same, throwing on her high school jazz band hoodie and a pair of UChicago track pants. She tries not to let herself get too antsy, sitting on the edge of her bed and flicking through her phone, ignoring an incoming message from Connor that’s just a row of eyes emojis. 

Natalie reemerges from the bathroom, her hair still holding valiantly in its updo, but she’s taken the heavy makeup off, looking more herself. “Ohh, we match,” she says sweetly, gesturing at her Music @UChicago sweater. 

“Don’t tell Connor, he’ll be mad we’re coming for his thing,” Zoe says, pulling at her cuff. 

Natalie laughs and sits on the edge of her bed, mirroring Zoe. “So what do you wanna do?” Zoe says after a long moment. “Did you wanna, like, watch a movie or something?” 

“Actually,” Natalie says, looking down and away. “I was wondering if, uh, you’d maybe help me take my hair out? I’m pretty sure there’s about two whole packs of bobby pins up in this mess and I could use a hand.” 

“Oh!” Zoe says, standing and moving so she can sit behind Natalie on her unmade bed. “Yeah, of course. Uh, let me know if it hurts or anything.” 

She starts at the top, working her way down the layers of Natalie’s hair, it falling at odd angles thanks to all the hair spray. 

“I’m surprised how not horrible that went, honestly,” Zoe says, placing the bobby pins in a neat little pile beside where she’s kneeling on the bed. “I think that’s the best family event I’ve attended since I was, like, six.” 

Natalie hums in agreement, flinching slightly as Zoe tries to pull out a pin that’s attached to a whole cluster. “Sorry! Tip your head down a little bit.” 

Natalie complies and they sit in comfortable silence for a minute as Zoe nears the end of the pins, a small mountain having accumulated beside her. “So I was thinking,” Natalie hmmms in acknowledgement. “I was thinking, that book you were telling me about yesterday. It sounds really cute, I was wondering if maybe I could borrow it?” 

“Of course!” Natalie says. “Oh, or if you have a kindle I think the ebook is only like 99 cents if you want a copy you can actually, like, keep.” 

“I mean,” Zoe starts, trying to keep her hands steady as she pulls the last few pins out of Natalie’s hair. “But if I got the ebook then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you again.” 

“Oh,” She says, turning so her legs stick off of the bed and she can face Zoe. “Well yeah, I guess that’s a good point.” 

Zoe nods, reaching out to help comb Natalie’s hair down with her fingers. It’s still full of hair spray and looks a little bit ridiculous sticking out at strange angles, but her heart still swoops in her chest as she brings her hands down to cup Natalie’s face, one on her cheek, one just under her jaw.

“Can I— ?”

“Yes,” Natalie breathes. “Please.” 

Slowly Zoe closes the space between them, until they’re just barely touching noses. 

“Hey,” Zoe says, still kneeling up on her knees, making her need to lean down a bit into the kiss. 

“Hey,” Natalie says and closes the last gap of space between them, Zoe’s eyelids fluttering shut. 

It’s softer than Zoe would have imagined, all the pent up urgency of the weekend melting into something delicate and slow. Natalie’s lips part ever so slightly, her damp bottom lip pressing against Zoe’s mouth, and the world melts away around them. Everything is Natalie and Natalie’s mouth against hers and Natalie’s hands are coming around to the small of her back, and then higher, one cupping the shell of her ear. Which should be weird and not sexy at all, it’s her ear, but somehow it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to Zoe and she’s opening her mouth hot into the next kiss. 

Natalie surges forward and suddenly Zoe’s tipping over, her centre of gravity too high and Natalie’s coming toppling with her as she falls sideways across the mattress. 

“Sorry!” Natalie whispers, kissing her once on the side of the jaw in apology, but Zoe just laughs and pulls her back down to her, their mouths meeting in the impossible space between them. 

Zoe has always thought kissing is a lot like jazz, not jazz band jazz but proper jazz. The space of improvisation, becoming one not only with your instrument but the other person you’re playing with. A dizzying tightrope walk between the notes on the page and what if. But kissing Natalie is more than that somehow, like pure artistic invention, there’s no notes on the page to follow, just the two of them following each other. 

Zoe reaches up to card her hand through Natalie’s hair and they both wince as she pulls through an especially hairsprayed patch. 

“Sorry,” Zoe says, pulling away, Natalie chasing her mouth for another kiss, her eyes still closed for a moment, before she flops over onto her back, nuzzling into Zoe’s side. 

“Would you super hate me if I take a shower?” Natalie asks, muffled by Zoe’s jazz band hoodie. “My hair is so gross right now, I’m literally dying.” 

“Well if you’re _dying_ ,” Zoe teases. “Yeah, no of course, please go shower.” 

Natalie extracts herself gently, and then impulsively leans over, holding her hair out of the way like she’s drinking from a water fountain and gives Zoe another impossibly soft kiss. And honestly it’s a very good thing Zoe is already lying down because she feels dizzy when Natalie pulls away. 

“I’ll be quick, okay,” she says, stepping over her own suitcase on the floor and then hesitating outside the bathroom door. “This might be, uh, redundant at this point, but I just thought I should say that I, um, really like you.” 

Zoe feels her face heat up, and god, they were just making out and _this_ is what she can’t handle, but Natalie just looks so earnest, her hair sticking at odd angles as she ducks her head bashfully. 

“Uh, anyways I’m gonna shower. I’ll be right back,” Natalie says in a rush, disappearing into the bathroom, and Zoe lets herself indulge in kicking her feet happily against the mattress, sending a few bobby pins flying. So she sits up and collects them into a little pile and then deposits them on the bedside table for safekeeping. 

She can distantly hear the sound of Natalie singing in the shower, which combined with the kissing puts her in a good enough mood to check her messages from Connor which read as follows after a long string of eyes emojis. 

_get it zoe_

_proud of you_

_go for gold_

_okay no seriously whats going on_

_ZOE ARE YOU IGNORING ME BECAUSE YOURE HAVING S*X!!!_

She rolls her eyes, texting back, _Wouldn’t you like to know xo_

It earns her a keysmash in return and she laughs, lying back down and setting her phone on the nightstand. She turns over, onto her side, letting her eyes drift shut as the late night and the hectic day crash down on her like a wave and she’s pulled into sleep entirely without realizing it. 

She starts awake to Natalie standing over her, a soft hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you fell asleep,” she says softly, running a hand over her hair. 

“Sorry,” Zoe says. “We can still do stuff.” Natalie shushes her. “We were up so late last night, I’m honestly ready to just go to bed. If that’s okay? I’m gonna get you a makeup wipe, you really shouldn’t sleep with all that stuff on your face.” 

Zoe nods sleepily, burrowing her chin in the soft fabric of her hoodie. “Oh, I guess, I’ll just,” she moves to sit up, realizing she’s in Natalie’s bed not her own. 

“Oh, well, I mean you don’t have to move. You can sleep here if you want, only if you want to though, I just thought, you look really comfy.” She hands her a pre-moistened makeup wipe and Zoe settles back down onto the pillows, scrubbing at her face. 

“You missed a spot,” Natalie says, taking the wipe from her and gently running it under her eye, Zoe turning her head to kiss where Natalie’s palm cups her jaw. 

She’s never been very good at this, the casual warm intimacy, tending to oscillate hot and cold. It’s something which her short-lived fall semester boyfriend had actually cited as one of his reasons they weren’t compatible when breaking up with her. But it seems easy with Natalie to reach out and touch her hair or brush a hand over her shoulder as she climbs into bed beside her, giving in to the sorts of impulses she’d been aggressively tamping down the last two days. 

Natalie rolls over onto her side so they’re curled up face to face, a perfect set of closed brackets, hands under their chins like children. Zoe’s never been much for sleeping curled up around another person, pleased to be like this, close together without the suffocating need to be right on top of each other. 

“What are you thinking about?” Natalie asks, like it’s a secret.

“You,” Zoe says, simply, honestly, and Natalie leans up on her elbow, her still damp hair bumping against Zoe’s cheek as she kisses her. She sits up farther, clicking the beside lamp a few times, bright, brighter, brightest, off, and it’s only moments before Zoe’s nodding off to sleep. 

In the morning Zoe wakes first, her normal Sunday alarm jingling annoyingly and she turns over to turn it off. Natalie’s still asleep, one hand tucked under her pillow, one stretching out in the no-man's-land between them towards her and Zoe’s heart flip flops in her chest as she lies back down. 

She’s not tired enough to go back to sleep but she doesn’t feel like getting up quite yet, content to flip through her Facebook feed and ignore more texts from Connor while Natalie slowly wakes up beside her. 

“Hey,” Natalie says squinting, her voice a little croaky. 

“Good morning,” Zoe says back, clicking on the notification telling her that Cynthia Murphy has tagged her in 54 new photos. “Oh jeez, remember when I said I thought my mom was spiralling into an amateur photography phase? She just tagged me in like 50 photos.” 

Natalie laughs, stretching her legs under the duvet, her sock feet bumped against Zoe’s calves. She checks her watch, Zoe impossibly charmed by the fact that Natalie apparently fell asleep with her watch on, and groans. “Ahh fuck, continental breakfast ended like five minutes ago,” she scrubs a hand over her face. “I need coffee.” 

“I think there’s like a cafe downstairs in the lobby” Zoe says, scrambling up. “I can go, what do you want?”

Natalie looks at her like she just offered to pull the sun down from the sky and Zoe’s heart squeezes tightly. They stare at each other for a long moment before Zoe says, “Uh, yeah sorry what kind of coffee do you want?” 

“Oh right!” Natalie shakes her head and laughs at herself. “Just black with two sugars. I can, uh, write it down if you want to.” 

Zoe laughs. “I think I can remember that.” 

“Right, sorry.” 

“No, that’s okay.” 

Natalie’s eyes linger on her face and Zoe bites her lip tentatively, shifting from one foot to another. “Was there something else?” 

Natalie blinks. “No, no sorry, I’m just. Scattered this morning I guess.” 

Zoe nods, wiping her hands on her sweatpants, feeling too hot and ansty all of a sudden as she searches for her shoes and grabs her key card off of the desk. She’s reaching for the door handle when Natalie’s suddenly jumping off the bed and blurts, “Okay wait hold on a second I feel like I’m fucking this up.” 

“Huh?”

“I just, I meant when I said that I really like you, and I know last night was maybe not what people think of as a one-night stand but I don’t want you to think that’s all it was to me because...it really wasn’t. And I am so bad at this, I am so bad at feelings and, well, everything really,” Natalie says, tucking her hair behind her ears self-consciously. 

“You’re really really not,” Zoe says, not sure exactly where this is going. 

“No, it’s not— I just…” Natalie stretches her hands out, trying to grasp for something, hands clenching and unclenching while she searches. “Okay, it’s like jazz.” 

“Jazz?” Zoe repeats tentatively. 

“Like, the thing with jazz, or rather I guess, like, my problem with jazz, is I never know like...when do you know if you did it right? Like with classical music it’s either right or it’s not, obviously there’s artistic expression within that but it’s a yes or it’s a no, structurally.” 

Zoe nods, still completely unsure what exactly Natalie is trying to tell her. “So okay, it’s just like, relationship stuff is like jazz. Because there’s no one right answer and I just flounder about hoping that _something_ I’m doing is working but maybe I’m just messing up the whole arrangement and— None of this is probably making any sense anyways.” 

Zoe swallows, her mouth suddenly very very dry. “Well,” she says finally. “I am pretty bad at relationships stuff too. But I am actually really good at jazz,” she gestures vaguely at her jazz band hoodie. “So maybe we’ll be okay?”

Natalie bites her lip, and tilts her gaze down to the floor, and that absolutely just won’t do, Zoe thinks, reaching out for her hand. 

“Hey,” Zoe says, “I really like you. A lot. So maybe we could just, try it? And see what happens?” 

“I told you it was like jazz,” Natalie says with false annoyance, but she cracks a grin right on the end and gives Zoe’s hand a brief squeeze before letting her go. 

“I’m gonna convert you,” Zoe says and Natalie pokes her tongue out at her. 

She’s floating on optimism that her thing with Natalie is quickly approaching actually becoming a _thing,_ so she doesn’t register Evan, Jared, Connor, and Jackson all clustered together in the lobby until after they’ve spotted her on her way back with Natalie’s coffee. 

Both Connor and Jared start fucking _applauding,_ drawing the attention of the annoyed-looking desk manager. 

“There she is!” Connor crows, “the woman of the hour.” 

“I’m proud of you,” Jared says. “If someone had to take to heart my dream of gay-ing up the reception I’m glad it was you.” 

“Oh my god, _stop_ ,” Zoe says. 

“C’mon spill, what happened?” Connor asks flopping back down on the sofa. 

“We just went back to our room and went to bed, you guys need to chill, seriously,” she says, but Connor just raises an eyebrow. 

“Who’s the coffee for, Zo?” 

“...fuck off.” 

Jared snorts. “Oh, I need to text Henry.” 

“I hate all of you.” 

“What did Evan and I do!?” Jackson calls after her. 

“You’re enablers of your ridiculous boyfriends,” Zoe calls over her shoulder. 

“Fair,” she hears Evan confirm as the elevator doors whoosh shut behind her. 

Natalie’s sitting on the floor in front of the bed, the TV playing another wedding dress show on mute while she holds her phone to her ear, mouthing ‘thank you’ as Zoe pushes the coffee into her hand and joins her on the floor. 

She can just make out the rapid fire of a masculine voice, Natalie huffing out an exasperated sigh. “Henry look, I can’t get into this with you right now, I have to pack.” 

Holy shit, Jared wasn’t joking around. 

“Mhmmm? ….yeah.….Oh my god fuck off,” Natalie says and Zoe can hear Henry laughing on the other end of the line before Natalie hangs up, rolling her eyes. “Ex-boyfriends, am I right?” 

Zoe laughs, and Natalie leans over and kisses her, stroking through her hair gently. When they break apart it’s only a few inches, Natalie still leaning up on her knees to stay close. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Zoe leans back in and gives her another quick kiss. “Don’t mention it.” 

Natalie takes another long sip of her coffee, making a satisfied noise that should frankly be illegal and Zoe feels her cheeks heating up. Her phone buzzes on the night stand, and she welcomes the distraction as Natalie finishes her coffee. 

It’s just a text from her roommate Katherine asking what time she thinks she’ll be home. She shoots her a quick reply, knowing the reason she asked in the first place was probably because she wants to sex with her boyfriend without needing to worry about the noise. Zoe has never actually walked in on them or heard anything other than one weird time that they were both in the shower talking about Gilded Age politics. Though knowing them, that might be some kind of weird foreplay. 

“Oh fuck,” Zoe says, catching sight of the time and running a hand through her hair. “It’s like an hour til check out.” She hasn’t showered and her stuff is strewn all over the room. 

“Shit,” Natalie says. “Yeah, I gotta pack all my shit.” 

“I need to shower,” she blurts, and Natalie raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, that sounded like an— well I mean it wasn’t _not_ , I just need to be super quick.” 

“Zoe,” Natalie says, tilting her head to the side. “I knew what you meant.” 

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m stressed. This isn’t anything like jazz, I’m good at jazz!” 

“You’re good at lots of things,” Natalie says, stepping into her personal space and setting her hands on her waist. Zoe feels like she’s melting into her hands where they make contact and really, she needs to put her arms around Natalie’s shoulders just to keep herself upright. 

Natalie kisses with singular focus, her thumbs rubbing small circles right about Zoe’s hip bones and when Natalie licks into her mouth it really is a very good thing she’s holding onto her as her knees go wobbly. 

“I need to shower,” Zoe says breathlessly as Natalie starts kiss down her jaw, the pulse point by her ear, down her neck, laughing as she pushes the hood of Zoe’s sweater out of the way. 

“Spoilsport,” Natalie says, her lips still close enough to Zoe’s neck that they brush against her skin and make her shiver. 

Honestly, it’s a very, very good thing she’s going to shower. 

When she reemerges from the bathroom with her little bag of toiletries, Natalie’s all packed and has very sweetly set her things which were scattered around the room on top of her bed, alongside Natalie’s harlequin romance novel. Zoe’s fingers ghost over the cover fondly, and she takes extra care to make sure she puts it someplace in her bag where it won’t get bent or mangled. 

It’s close enough to noon when they get downstairs that there’s a small crowd of people waiting to check out, including Zoe’s mom who sweeps her up into a hug. 

“I wish I could stay longer,” her mom says, petting her on the shoulder. “Next time I’m in the city we’ll go to that nice Indian place again.” 

“Is Connor going to drive you back?” Zoe asks, trying to keep her voice neutral; she’s not sure she can handle her brother spilling his interpretation of events before Zoe gets a chance to defend herself. 

“No, actually, well Heidi offered to drive me back,” she says, fiddling with the charm on her necklace and, holy shit, is she blushing? “It’s on the way for her,” her mom rushes to add. “And I know Connor and Jackson were planning on stopping in to see Jackson’s brother on the way home so they wanted to head out a bit early, and I thought this would work better for everyone.” 

Zoe gives her one last long hug goodbye and then she’s gone, walking out the revolving glass door with Heidi Hansen. 

“Oh my god,” Natalie says. 

“I cannot _believe_ I just got showed up by my _mother_. Honestly, this is just typical.” 

Natalie laughs and leans over to kiss her on the cheek. Zoe hadn’t realized that Jared and Evan were standing behind them until she hears Jared gasp followed by him squawking, “Ow! Evan!” 

“Leave them alone.” 

“You _pinched_ me.” 

“I’m absolutely prepared to do it again,” Evan says and Jared huffs but doesn’t say anything else. Zoe shoots Evan a glance over her shoulder, mouthing ‘thank you!’

‘Anytime,’ Evan mouths back before pointing at Natalie and giving Zoe a thumbs up. 

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling when she steps forward to give her keycard to the front desk. She waits off to the side for Natalie, fiddling with the handle of her rolling suitcase and checking her phone. 

_sorry i couldnt say bye to you and ur honey we had to hit the road_ , Connor’s texted her, 

_i know im an ass but i do actually want you to be happy_. 

She rolls her eyes, typing back _Did Jackson make you add that bit?_

_i wouldnt say make id say strongly encouraged_

_doesnt mean its not true_

Zoe rolls her eyes, but it’s fond, and she tucks her phone in her pocket as Natalie crosses the lobby towards her. 

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” Zoe says. 

The moment stretches between them like salt water taffy, soft and impossibly sweet. 

“So, uh,” Natalie starts. “Do you need a ride or anything?” 

“Oh, nah that’s fine, I have to run some errands on the way home. And I should probably grab some food or something too. But, uh, we should hang out soon.” 

“Yeah absolutely, just call me and we’ll figure something out,” Natalie nods, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Oh jeez, I haven’t given you my number have I? That would probably help.” 

“Oh yeah,” Zoe laughs. “Yeah, that’s sort of a crucial element of this.” She hands over her phone and watches Natalie type in her number with exacting precision. 

“‘Natalie Goodman,’” Zoe reads aloud. 

“Yeah well you know, a Goodman is hard to find,” Natalie says and then flushes, shaking her head. “God, I’m turning into my father.” 

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” 

“Ha, thanks.” 

Zoe rocks on the balls of her feet, suppressing the urge to ask, _so what now_? 

“Uh, I’m parked in the underground lot, so…?” Natalie gestures towards the elevator. 

“Oh, I’ll walk you to your car then. If that’s okay?” 

“Of course!” Natalie beams at her, and Zoe very unsubtly shifts her suitcase to her other hand so they can hold hands. Which causes Jared to make a very loud noise, slapping Evan on the arm (“I see them, I have eyes!”) as they walk by, Zoe giving them a bit of a smug fluttery finger wave. 

They’re both quiet in the elevator but it’s comfortable, Natalie’s hand warm and smooth in her own. There’s something so pleasing about how her hands are ever so slightly bigger, with long slim pianist fingers, Zoe suddenly aware and self conscious of how calloused the tips of her fingers are, especially on her left hand, but Natalie doesn’t seem to notice or care, squeezing her hand ever so slightly as the elevator dings and lets them off at the underground lot. 

Natalie’d managed to grab a spot close to the elevator, only a few cars into the closest row and she rubs the back of her neck with her free hand. 

“We should, um, do something really soon,” Natalie says. “Just call me, okay?” 

“Okay,” Zoe says leaning up on her toes ever so slightly and closing the distance between them. They kiss long and slow for a moment, Natalie pulling away once, and then coming back in for one, two, three smaller close-mouthed pecks. 

“Okay,” Natalie says grabbing her suitcase. “I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

Natalie smiles at her one more time before grabbing her suitcase and crossing the twenty or so feet to her car. She’s only about ten feet away when Zoe impulsively pulls her phone out of her pocket. 

Natalie startles slightly when her phone rings, echoing loudly in the cavernous parking garage. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey,” Zoe says, a little breathlessly, and Natalie turns to look at her, surprised. “Um, what are you doing right now?”

“Nothing,” Natalie says, echoing herself on the phone. “Why?” 

“Do you wanna go get brunch or something?” 

Natalie shakes her head incredulously, but she’s beaming, light dancing in her eyes. “I would love that, actually.” 

“Okay,” Zoe says. “I guess I’ll see you soon then.” 

“Mhmmm,” Natalie says, hanging up, and Zoe follows suit. She laughs, making a little ‘come hither’ gestures with her entire hand and Zoe laughs, catching up to her, the echoes of their laughter mingling as their hands meet. 

_Nineteen Months Later_

The fall of Zoe’s junior year of college, Natalie nabs the ever so coveted piano chair in the orchestra. Which is wonderful, but means that Zoe spends a lot of time tucked into one of the little alcoves outside the rehearsal hall, studying or doing readings or just playing dumb flash word games on her phone while she waits for Natalie to finish rehearsal. 

Well, maybe more the phone games than studying, but with midterms coming up Zoe actually manages to get in a good few hours of actual studying, her phone turned off and left in her bag to avoid temptation. Finally, when she’s pretty sure she’s going to cry if she has to read another word about linguistic anthropology, she stands from her little alcove nest, knees cracking loudly in protest as she stretches before flopping back down and turning her phone back on. 

That’s when all hell breaks loose, Zoe’s phone projecting as many notifications as quickly as it can. Missed texts, missed calls, missed Facebook messages, missed Skype calls, almost all of them from Connor but there’s a few from Evan. Her heart picks up, nightmare scenarios about her mom getting in a car accident or something flashing through her mind as she hits the groupchat she shares with Evan and Connor. It was originally called I Can’t Believe Our Moms Are DatingTM but later renamed The Spaghetti Kleinman Fanclub in honour of their mutual love of Jared’s cat. Her stomach lurches at the notification for two hundred and eight unread messages. 

_Spaghetti Fanclub VP: zo wtf where were you?_

_Spaghetti Fanclub Media Coordinator: I have exams I was studying_

_Spaghetti Fanclub Media Coordinator: What’s going on? Is mom okay?_

_Spaghetti Fanclub President: Yeah she’s fine!!! Can we call you it might be easier to explain???_

Zoe digs around in her bag for her headphones and readjusts so she can balance her

phone on her knee, her panic fading and quickly being replaced with curiosity. 

Connor picks up the call first, giving her a wave as Evan’s video comes in. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” Evan asks. 

“Yup,” Zoe says. “Okay what the fuck is going on?” 

“Do you wanna tell her or should I?” Connor says with a grin and Evan rolls his eyes. 

“Oh my god,” Zoe says, her voice rising. “Oh my god, Evan!? Did you get engaged!?” 

She knows that Evan has been planning to propose to Jared in a sort of nebulous way for at least the last four months. He had told her after the fact that he’d actually had something fairly concretely planned during the summer, but then Jackson and Connor had gotten engaged so he’d decided to put it off, not wanting to seem like he was stealing anyone’s thunder. 

“Well, you’re close,” Connor says, “But it wasn’t Evan and Jared.” 

“Holy fuck,” Zoe says far too loud, earning her a glare from some underslept looking undergrad. “Holy fuck! Did mom and Heidi…?” 

“Bingo,” Connor says, brushing his hair out of his face. “So, uh, I think this makes this officially a siblings group chat which is fucking _wild_.” 

Zoe shakes her head in disbelief. “Wow, okay I am feeling, like, seventeen different emotions. The two hundred and eight unread messages make a lot more sense now.” She puts her hands to her forehead and leaves them there. “We’re going to be, like, siblings??” 

Evan shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“You don’t seem particularly enthused.”

“Don’t mind him, he’s just mad because his proposal plans got foiled again,” Connor says smugly, tapping his hands on his desk, his own engagement ring plainly visible, the only ring he wears on his left hand. 

“Don’t say that like I’m not happy!” Evan protests. “I can be a tiny, tiny bit disappointed for myself and also really, really happy for them.” 

Zoe doesn’t doubt it: while she and Connor both adore Heidi for how much love and support she’s brought into their mom's life, Evan has probably been the most vocal supporter of their relationship since the start. And it didn’t hurt that their mom had already basically wanted to adopt Evan since the whole thing with the emails in senior year. 

“Wait,” Zoe says, having switched from the call to Facebook. “I’m not seeing a post, did mom call you?” 

Evan clears his throat. “Um, okay, so this is the part where we admit we’re maybe not supposed to know about this engagement.” 

“Oh?” Zoe asks, exiting Facebook to give them her full attention. 

“Well, okay, okay, so Jared got sent a text from his dad with a picture of my mom and your mom and they were wearing rings and I think he captioned it something like, ‘can’t wait for the Mrs. Hansens to take on the world.’”

“Yeah, it’s fucking awesome, I have like twelve possible colour schemes already.” 

“Connor you better not be giving our mom — our moms? — your rejected sloppy seconds from your wedding planning binder,” Zoe says, taking out one of her earbuds and twirling it by the cord. 

“Hey, I’ll have you know even my rejected ideas are amazing, what the hell are you calling sloppy?” 

“Do you think they’re really going to— ” Evan starts but is abruptly cut off by a loud bang and a shout of _“EVAN, HOLY FUCK!”_

“Here comes the brother-in-law,” Connor says dryly as Jared appears behind Evan. 

“Babe, babe, you’re gonna fucking die,” Jared says, shoving Evan over on the couch so he can sit down, taking the earbud Evan offers him. “Okay good, I’m glad we’re all here so I don’t have to tell this story like four times.” 

“We already know about our moms getting engaged,” Zoe says. “Evan beat you to it.” 

“By the way,” Connor says, barely hiding a grin. “When are you guys gonna get engaged?” Evan glares at him, but the effect doesn’t quite work over webcam and Connor just laughs. 

“Yeah okay, but here’s the thing,” Jared says, pointedly ignoring Connor, “They didn’t actually get engaged.” 

“Uh? I saw the photo, there were rings.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Jared says. “That’s because they skipped over the engagement and just got fucking married.” 

Evan and Connor both explode, demanding explanations which Jared rushes to provide. “Okay so after I got the text I called my dad and he wasn’t picking up at first, but he just called me back and yeah, I guess they just decided to skip the whole white wedding thing — I know you and your binder will be incredibly disappointed Connor — and just go get married at the courthouse. My parents were both there as their witnesses, there’s some great pics of my dad just weeping, apparently.” 

“Wait,” Evan says. “Does that mean….holy shit do I have siblings now? Am I not an only child anymore?” 

“Uh, earth to Evan, you already have three half-siblings,” Zoe says. “Which is, like, one and a half real siblings.” 

“Yeah, but they don’t like….I never _see_ them,” Evan settles on, tugging nervously on the cuffs of his sweater. 

Connor hums thoughtfully. “Also, you never dated either of them.” 

“ _WOW_ , okay, we’ve all agreed never to talk about that.” 

“Yeah, can we not?” Evan says. Connor retorts something, but Zoe can’t hear it over the sudden influx of orchestra members into the hallway, chatting noisily. She spots Natalie after a second, wearing a soft black top that Zoe has a particular weakness for with it’s low scooping back, showing off the constellation of freckles Natalie has on her back.

“Hiya,” Natalie says, leaning over to kiss her on the temple and craning to get a view of her phone screen. She lets out a little delighted noise and waves at Jared who waves back at her with an equal level of enthusiasm. The weird and delightful enigma of Natalie and Jared’s friendship was one that Zoe has never really understood, but she supposes it makes enough sense having heard about each other secondhand through Henry for years. 

“Okay, I gotta go guys,” Zoe says. “Text me. Also, is this a secret? Should we pretend we don’t know so they get to feel special when they tell us? I’m really not sure what the protocol is for this.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone really does,” Connor says, fiddling with his engagement ring. “We’ll text you with developments.” 

Zoe snorts. “It’s not a hurricane, Connor.” 

“Hurricane Hansen,” Evan says thoughtfully. 

“Okay I really have to go, I’ll be in the chat,” she says, well aware of all her textbooks still spread out on the floor around her that will have to be cleaned up before they can go. 

“Did you have a nice call with your brother?” Natalie asks sweetly, picking up Zoe’s jacket and turning it rightside out for her while Zoe scrambles to get all of her textbooks in her bag. 

“Brother _s_.” Zoe says, tugging the zipper on her bag, and gratefully accepting the hand Natalie offers to her. “Yeah, uh, our moms got married? They just, like, eloped? Or wait, is it eloping if you don’t actually go anywhere?” 

“I feel like it probably is, but also I think elopements shouldn’t count if you don’t go somewhere cool. Like my parents eloped to _Portland_ and I feel like that honestly just should not have counted,” Natalie says, helping Zoe shrug into her jacket. 

“I just told you my mom secretly married the mother of my ex-boyfriend and you’re using it as an excuse to rag on Portland, like, we get it sweetie, you’re from Seattle.” 

Natalie laughs and uses two fingers to tilt Zoe’s chin up into a quick peck. “And don’t you forget it. Also you really need to stop calling Evan your ex-boyfriend now that you’re siblings.” 

“Well, it’s a lot easier than saying that he’s my girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend’s boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, that very quickly turns it into an ‘I’m my own grandpa’ kind of situation,” Natalie says, holding out her hand and waving it impatiently when Zoe doesn’t take it right away. 

“I have my hands full, _Natalie_ ,” Zoe says with mock annoyance, shoving her phone into her jacket pocket and slinging her bag over her shoulder, taking Natalie’s hand as soon as her hands are free. 

“Are you, like, are you okay? I know this is a huge change in your family life,” Natalie says, swinging their joined hands gently between them. 

“Weirdly, yeah, I mean, I was surprised...but also it wasn’t unexpected?” And truly it wasn’t. They had started dating since almost immediately after Becca and Isaac’s wedding, and once Heidi had moved in with her mom it had mostly just felt like a matter of time, or more a matter of opinion on the importance of matrimony. There’s something really sweet about it to her, that her mom and Heidi would both be willing to get married again given everything their first marriages had thrown at them. 

“Well,” Natalie says, “I guess the bouquet knew for the best after all.” 

“Hmmm?” Zoe says, pushing open the double doors that lead out of the music building. Outside it’s already dark, the air cool and wet as they stroll down the steps. 

“You know, how the person who catches the bouquet at the wedding will be the next to get married. Your mom caught it, and now here we are. It knows.” Natalie points out, gesturing with her free hand. 

“I’d literally forgotten all about that,” Zoe says. 

“Really?! It was so sweet.” 

“Well, were a lot of more important things that happened at that wedding, I tend to think about those,” Zoe says. 

“Hmmm, like Jagerbomb Evan,” Natalie says and then catching Zoe’s pouting, “C’mon I’m kidding.” Natalie squeezes her hand and then, impulsively, pulls her in close.

“Hey,” Natalie says. 

“Hey,” Zoe says, closing the impossibly small space between them. They linger for a moment after the kiss, glowing incandescently happy beneath a canopy of bright lights. 

_Who needs stars anyways_ , Zoe thinks and kisses her again. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic truly took a village. Huge thanks and love as always to Meg, Rachel, and Alix, and general adoration to Bea and Pearl. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr where I'm also phonecallfromgod and absolutely check out evol_love's fic linked below which is a beautiful elaboration on the party Evan, Jared, and Zoe went to together in high school.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Little Party Never Killed Nobody](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12989046) by [evol_love](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evol_love/pseuds/evol_love)




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